Invisible M
by Tobirion
Summary: Cloud inherits the house of his dreams after his Great-Uncle Hojo dies, and he thinks that finally, things might be looking up. It's too bad that he's not the only one inhabiting the mansion. ASGZC. **title changed momentarily-not permanent!**
1. The Inheritance

**...Oh Gaia, here we go. I couldn't wait any longer, so here we are. This is obviously a weird form of AU (some things are the same, but the majority is AU.) Nibelheim Manor is an actual mansion here... the sort that some ridiculous billionare would own. The works, you know.**

**Ah! Today (July 25th, ignore what ffnet says... I posted on the 25th, lol) is my birthday. Reviews make great presents. ;) I'd like to thank CloudedMirror89 for all the help she's given me with this story (it wouldn't be more than an idea and a sentence if it wasn't for her). She's the most wonderful beta ever, for realz. ...And 'kay, here. Enjoy chapter one... phew. (And the ASGZC is a long time coming, just so everyone knows.)**

**Disclaimer: ~!i^Id*I=oV+nY~oS^tA*oT=wN+nA~fF^iL*nA=aN+lI~fF^aN*nW=tO+aT~sO^yN*vO=Di=I!~ (Hah.)**

**attention: page breaks in this story up to chapter 17 have been deleted by ffnet. They'll be back in soon, sorry for any confusion!**

* * *

Cloud had always suspected that his apartment was too cluttered and small. He knew it was true for sure when there was a knock at the door, and he got up to answer it. He rose from his seat on the tiny couch and made his way towards the door, smacking his knee on an end table and stubbing his toe on a stack of books in the hallway, knocking them over.

Wincing and biting back a curse, Cloud opened the door and curiously peered at the man standing on the threshold.

He never really got visitors, much less important-looking ones in suits.

"…Can I help you?" Cloud asked nervously, resisting the urge to slam the door shut and hide. He had always been a solitary kind of person since his youth, not good with confrontation or entertaining. There was an aura of creepy seriousness surrounding the visitor.

He hadn't done anything illegal recently, had he? No… so the man couldn't have been there to arrest him; maybe he was a spy here to put him in the witness-protection program? He really had no idea why he, a nobody with few friends, would get a visit like this.

The man raised a thin eyebrow at the obvious mess behind the blond. He extended a hand, a short ponytail swaying with the movement.

"I'm Tseng," he introduced. Cloud shyly shook his hand, putting his weight on his throbbing toe inconspicuously. Tseng obviously saw it and continued. "I'm here on behalf of your late Great-Uncle Hojo. May I come in?"

Taken aback, Cloud's eyes widened. He had only met his great-uncle a few times, and none of those times had been very special. He hadn't known that the creep had died, though.

Tseng followed him into a cramped kitchen and sat down, placing a laptop on the table after moving a stack of papers to the side. Cloud sat opposite him, feeling embarrassed.

Tseng narrowed his eyes at him while the laptop booted up and clarified, "You _are_ Cloud Strife, correct?"

"Yeah," Cloud answered, more interested in the back of the laptop. It seemed state of the art; he had never had enough money to own one himself.

Tseng clicked on something and spun the laptop around so he could see the screen. There was a long, detailed document up. Tseng stuck his head out from behind it and said briskly, "Hojo's will."

…_Ah_. The family freak-slash-outcast left him something, did he?

"As you probably know," Tseng began, "Your Great-Uncle lived in Nibelheim." (Cloud hadn't known that at all.) "He owned a mansion on the outskirts of the town."

Another click, and Cloud was looking at a blown-up picture of the mansion. It was gorgeous—or it had been, at one point. Some shingles on the roof were missing, and the window ledges could have used a new coat of paint, but it was still beautiful. It was big, too—about three stories, with regal-looking pillars out front and a huge-ass porch. It was the house of his wet dreams.

"…He's left it for _you_," Tseng said, smiling at the bewildered look on the blond's face. "Along with the grounds."

Cloud's head snapped up. He looked around at his shitty, cramped apartment. Imagine… a _mansion_.

Placing an official paper and a pen in front of him, Tseng said carefully, "Do you want it?"

Even though Cloud had the feeling Tseng wasn't telling him something important, Cloud was sold. He grinned broadly and picked up the pen.

* * *

In the unnatural stillness of Nibelheim mansion, two men silently stared out one of the upstairs windows. Zack frowned and rested his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes briefly.

"…So there's really another one coming?" The dark-haired man asked softly.

Sephiroth shifted beside him. He clenched his fists, trying to be discrete. He glanced to the side and said, just as quietly, "Yes."

"Don't look so upset!" a chipper voice said from behind them.

Zack and Sephiroth turned; Genesis sauntered up the nearest set of stairs' last few steps and bounced to a stop beside them. There was an almost evil glint in his eye when he said, "_Let_ them come."

Angeal trailed up the stairs at a much slower pace, looking visibly upset. Zack winced and focused his gaze outside again.

Hojo was dead. It was a fact—he had seen the crazy bastard blow himself up by accident with his own eyes. Years and years of torture had come to an abrupt end.

Zack held his hands up to the light. He was used to it, but it was still a bit weird to see the light pass right through his body. He didn't even have a shadow anymore.

Hojo was dead, but now his nephew or some other twisted relative was coming. Would they be as bad as Hojo had been? Worse, if it was possible? Why did they have to come so quickly? They had barely any time to recover after the first madman!

Sephiroth was curiously watching the way the dust particles in the air tried to go past his hair like the light did. It made for a pretty visual, but Zack found himself going uncharacteristically sad. Angeal, always the calm one, lightly blew his held breath out, trying to keep his temper in check.

Would the 'new Hojo' take a special 'liking' to Sephiroth as Hojo had? Would they all be okay? (Zack didn't think that he could go through everything again.)

But the others must have sensed his unusually black emotions and turned on him.

"Stop it," Angeal ordered, putting an arm around the back of his neck and drawing him into his chest. Zack peered at the fabric of the man's clothing. It was just like them—solid but not really, there but not seen by anyone _normal_.

It was…_weird._

(They were lucky that they could see each other; it was the one secret that they had kept from Hojo, no matter how many 'tests' the madman had done.)

Zack brightened and threw both arms around Angeal, grinning. "We'll be fine," he crowed, suddenly excited. He and Genesis shared a plotting, mischievous look, and Sephiroth gave a positively evil smile.

They'd be more than fine. They'd run the new guy out of the mansion in a week, tops. They had to look out for each other, right?

He wouldn't know what hit him.

* * *

Cloud sped along one of the long mountain roads that led towards Nibelheim, willing Fenrir not to wobble too much. Although Fenrir was his baby, and although he kept her gleaming and in good condition, she liked to be… unpredictable sometimes. It usually wasn't a problem, but the roads up here were dangerous and different from the kind he was used to.

Tseng's efficiency was startling.

He was actually behind his movers—they had trucked all his stuff to Nibelheim a day earlier, much to his surprise. It seemed Tseng wanted him out of his apartment and into the mansion as quickly as possible, for whatever reason.

Nibelheim itself was a quaint little town (if not a bit backwoods), and Cloud rolled Fenrir to a stop outside what looked like a grocery store. He bought a soda and a candy bar and was back on in a few minutes, rolling his eyes at the townspeople in general. They had stared at him and his obvious 'Midgar-ness,' fascinated.

The mansion was just as pretty as it had been on Tseng's computer, if not more so because he was seeing it up close and in person. The grass was a freakishly green color that you just didn't see in Midgar, and he could see the metal fences of tennis courts off in the distance, as well as various fruit trees looking out-of-place in the Nibel woods like this. It was… _amazing!_

He parked Fenrir next to where there were tire tracks from the previous day's trucks and smoothly slid off it, stretching his sore muscles.

He opened his soda, swiped windswept spikes out of his eyes and shivered. It was colder than Midgar here. He pulled on a backpack he had kept in Fenrir's storage compartment and ambled up to the front door, fishing around in his pocket for the key Tseng had given him. He beamed—it was finally sinking in that the mansion was _his_. His!

He had just slid the key into the old-fashioned keyhole when he shivered again, but for a different reason.

…It felt like he was being watched.

Cloud glanced left and right a few times, frowning. The feeling didn't go away, but he eventually shrugged and turned the key anyway. It was probably nothing.

Cloud smiled, pushed the door open and walked inside.


	2. Expect the Unexpected

**Tobi: Hello again everyone! I'd like to say a big fat THANK YOU to everybody who read, reviewed, fav'd or alerted. It means a lot. And I was totally blown away by how many reviews, favs and alerts this fic got... really, thank you! Special thanks go to SarissaDiablo for being the first reviewer, and PlayInTheWaves for being the fiftieth. If I for some reason didn't reply to your review, feel free to yell at me. I try to reply to everything, always. Here's a note from my wonderful beta:**

**CM: Hi all, this is Yumi (aka: CloudedMirror89). Wow so many reviews! Thank you all SO much! We really appreciate it. This story took a lot of work from both Tobi and me. We are really enjoying writing this fic and I hope that you all will like it too! Now go read. Shoo!**

**Again, thanks, everybody. Enjoy!**

* * *

The mansion was… shockingly spacious. It was even bigger on the inside than it looked like it would be when viewed from the outside.

The front door opened right into a _huge_ room. It wasn't like the outside of the house at all—instead of white, the house was filled with royal, deep colors. It made Cloud blink for a moment; it didn't seem like the kind of thing that would have fitted Hojo at all. The floor was a ridiculously shiny white marble, which was pretty normal, he supposed, but the ceiling way above his head seemed to be a dark, dark purple. It was… weird. There were two large staircases that faced each other in the middle of the room; they curved upwards and led to the second floor. There was a railing up there so you wouldn't fall.

There was a glittering chandelier directly above his head, and Cloud stared up at it, smiling. The carpet on the steps and the drapes on the two huge windows on the same wall as the door were a rich, deep red. Closer inspection revealed a neat, thin gold trim on the stairs' carpet.

The whole house screamed elegance (and maybe a bit of boldness), things that Cloud knew he had no business with. He had half a mind to turn and leave, but he remembered Tseng's words about how he was the only one Hojo trusted to leave the fantastic mansion and its grounds to out of their whole giant (and _quite_ well-known) family. He'd stay.

Thankfully, there wasn't some cliché twenty foot tall evil painting of Hojo on one of the walls. Cloud let his eyes drink in the view, curiously noting the various other rooms and hallways that led off the main one.

It seemed to be in pretty good shape. Tseng had told him Hojo had died about a week and a half ago. It didn't really have that uninhabited feel to it yet, which was good, but Cloud couldn't help but feel like he'd run into Hojo at any minute.

_Well, let's check it out!_ a giddy, excited voice cried in his head.

Cloud grinned and took off to the right, a bit of an extra hop in his step. He entered a lounge, furnished with a plush couch, an armchair by a big window, and a fireplace. Just like in the first room, everything was lavish. Although red was the dominant color in the room, there was some blue furniture. The room's fancy but interesting appearance made Cloud think of, well, _not _an old person. It seemed fitting for a bachelor to live here, not Hojo (_perhaps this house belonged to someone else before Hojo_, he mused). but now, it was _just him_. It looked cozy enough, but nothing looked like it had ever been used. It was kind of unnerving.

There was also a huge wardrobe-looking thing; when he opened it, he coughed. There was a ridiculously large television in there, but there must have been an inch of dust on it. Again, not used. Weird.

Suddenly, Cloud experienced that odd shivery sensation again. His adrenaline from the excitement of first coming inside had worn off, and he suddenly became aware of how… _quiet_ it was.

He turned and observed. His eyes lingered on a spot in the corner for some reason, and he shivered again.

That feeling of being watched was back.

Thoroughly creeped out, Cloud left that room and went in search of a kitchen. He kept glancing over his shoulder involuntarily, and he tried to tell himself to calm down, but it didn't work.

Ever since he was little, Cloud had been afraid of ghosts. He knew it was illogical, and he knew he was alone in the house… but it was still a bit scary, all the same.

_Chill, Strife,_ he grunted to himself.

His mother would have fainted, had she seen the kitchen. It was enough to make a professional chef cry. While white (what a surprise—something normal!), the countertops were a dark red marble. Cloud wondered who had decorated the mansion for not the first time. A tiny table and some of the cabinets were glass. There was a vase filled with yellow flowers on the table, but the flowers were wilted and shriveled. It—predictably—looked rarely used and mostly for show.

He only spared the dining room a quick look. The long, long, _long_ table and the large amount of chairs made his head hurt. Well, he mused, if he ever threw a party, he'd have a place to sit them all.

Cloud let out a happy noise when he discovered—glory of glories—a _home theater_. He had only _read_ about things like that. (In Midgar, there was only apartments; there wasn't room for these big, sprawling houses. Everyone was crammed together, and Cloud was starting to think he liked it out in the mountainous countryside better.)

There were about twenty plush-looking armchairs facing a huge-ass screen, and speakers cleverly nestled up on the walls for surround-sound. Cloud almost shit his pants.

The remote had a coating of dust on it, though. Tseng had told him that Hojo had had a butler. No one knew what had happened to him, but judging by those dead flowers in the kitchen and the dust everywhere, he was no longer in the mansion. Hopefully.

Cloud gulped; that was a creepy thought.

After spending a good amount of time downstairs and not even finishing his tour, he trotted upstairs. His main goal was to find his bedroom and a bathroom—he had to pee, _badly_.

The whole damn house was like a pretty, extravagant _maze_. Rooms all over the place, doors that led to just about everywhere… it was a nightmare.

When Cloud finally located and entered the master bedroom, he immediately made a face.

It hadn't been downstairs, so here it was—right over the bed was a portrait of Hojo.

The old man's greasy hair was pulled back into his usual ponytail. His eyes glinted with that weird, superior look he remembered seeing at the family reunions.

All his stuff was already sitting on the bed, courtesy of the movers. Cloud frowned.

Sleeping in the same bed as that creep? Using the toilet where Hojo had… done his business?

No, thank you!

Cloud threw a duffel bag over his shoulder, hefted his suitcase and grabbed his pillow, leaving in search of another bedroom. Hojo's room had been awesome-looking, but even that flashy, white silk and pretty display of wealth (the room looked out-of-place in the weirdness of the rest of the mansion) wasn't worth being reminded of that creep.

After poking his head into two empty rooms, a parlor and a nursery, of all things, Cloud found a good bedroom.

There wasn't a gross painting anywhere. The bed was at _least_ twice the size of the one he had back at his apartment. He had gotten rid of that one.

There was a handsome wooden dresser with a big mirror above it, and a nightstand beside the bed. The best thing was that the sheets were blue—his favorite color. There was a gold pattern on the sheets, as well as golden drapes over the headboard, and Cloud found that he rather liked the combination. There were a few standing lamps in the corners, and a gold table, desk and chair—how cool!

Cloud couldn't have said no if he tried.

He plopped everything on the mattress and carefully removed a stuffed chocobo from the depths of the backpack he had brought on Fenrir, not trusting the movers with it.

Gently placing Sebastian on a pillow, Cloud finished 'unpacking' for the moment and darted to the adjacent bathroom to take a leak. He _still_ felt a bit wary, but felt better when he shut the door behind him.

The bathroom was pretty damn amazing. The tub was a huge square monstrosity in the center. It had an old-ish feel to it—the whole house did, actually—but looked nice enough. There was a shower too, and a sink that he almost missed, because it had the whole wooden-cabinet thing going on underneath it.

After he had finished and washed his hands, using an almost-full container of soap that was sitting beside the faucet, he lay on his new bed, too exhausted to do much of anything. Happiness radiated off the blond in waves.

As bad as it sounded, Hojo dying had probably been one of the best things to ever happen to him.

* * *

As the doorknob turned, the four men standing in the entrance hall tensed. This was it—the one who was supposed to continue where Hojo had left off was _here_. In a few moments, they'd be face-to-face with their new torturer.

Sephiroth was terrified.

His fear wasn't so much for himself. Although there was some kind of ingrained… _reluctance_ to go anywhere near a needle or anything related to it in him, he was more concerned for Genesis, Angeal and Zack.

Hadn't they _all_ suffered enough? Why did there have to be more, just when they thought they were in the clear? Sephiroth knew that his lovers were strong—in more ways than one—but even so, he was afraid for them.

Fear made Sephiroth _livid_.

…How _dare_ anyone try to put them through this again! Even though he had been told ever since birth that he _deserved_ all the tests, experimentation and prodding, he knew with every fiber of his being that the other men stuck here with him did _not_.

Sephiroth had been a military General, once. He had killed before, plenty of times. Before this new one got a chance to mess with them—make them weak, _hurt_ them—he was going to kill them. There had always been something with Hojo; he, to this day, never knew why he had never killed the madman, his father. The ideal moment to do so had presented itself often enough.

Before whatever spell he had fallen under before was able to take root with this newcomer, he'd take Masamune and slide it cleanly in the juncture where neck met shoulder, o-or maybe he'd stab them over and over again, though not in a place where it would kill them right away. He'd make _them_ feel the pain the ones most precious to him had suffered through. He couldn't stand idly by when—

Angeal placed a hand on the panicking General's arm. The silver-haired man was subtle, he'd give him that, but they could tell that he was upset. Sephiroth let out a slow breath and eyed the door that was slowly swinging open.

He would be _damned_ if he let anything else happen to Sephiroth—to any of them. No fucking scientists would disrupt the brief happiness and freedom they'd experienced for a short week and a few days.

They had agreed to wait before committing actual murder. Despite whatever Hojo had told them, they weren't monsters.

But as a wild-haired blond trotted into _their_ mansion, all four were just about to do it anyway. This man was in their territory; it was a violation of the worst kind.

The ex-SOLDIERs tensed and observed him, eyes drinking in all the details.

He was… deceptively innocent-looking. He had big blue eyes, and a boyish, rounded face…

No one allowed themselves to be fooled. Although this rule hadn't exactly applied to Hojo, you never could quite trust the ones that looked the _least_ likely to do something evil.

The boy looked around with wide eyes, and all four glanced at each other, the silent assessment's results shared between them without words.

The blond began moving through the house, and they followed.

"…So this is him," Zack said tersely, watching him as he nosily poked his head into every room of the house, touching things that _did not belong_ _to him_. Zack was careful to speak at a level that was too low for people with normal, unenhanced hearing to pick up.

"He seems a little… _weak_, wouldn't you say?" Genesis's canine teeth seemed sharper than usual as he grinned. "Doesn't look like he'd put up much of a fight."

"Do not underestimate him," Sephiroth said softly. "We do not know what he is capable of."

"So we're going to sit still and wait to see what he _can_ do?" Genesis, spat, tense and at the end of his patience. He almost had forgotten to speak at the special volume. He didn't mean to snap at his lovers, but his temper had always been a formidable thing.

"Genesis," Angeal said firmly, eyeing the redhead as they trailed the relative of Hojo's into the home theater, "Relax. We will get our time to be rid of this boy." He sighed, and his eyebrows drew together as he glared at the boy's back.

"We have to hold on to our honor—remember that. If there is a way to resolve this situation honorably, then we must find it."

"Honor?" Zack laughed shortly in disbelief. "Angeal—"

"If he touches any of you, I'll kill him myself," the oldest man said stonily, making Zack fall silent. He smiled at them reassuringly. "But, if possible, I'd like that to be our last option."

He looked right at Sephiroth as he said, "We aren't monsters."

Sephiroth gave a thin-lipped shadow of a smile and involuntarily twitched, reaching for Masamune's handle when the boy gave a sudden movement.

That rotten fucker Tseng had locked their swords away in the laboratory in the basement somewhere a long time ago; he had no idea where it might have been. It was a depressing thought.

The grim game of follow-the-leader eventually led them upstairs.

When the boy entered Hojo's old bedroom, the four older men held their breath. Would there be some giant change in the blond when he saw the dead scientist's face? They weren't quite sure what would happen, but they _were_ sure that it wouldn't be good.

Instead, he just made a face and moved his belongings to a guest bedroom. It was a shame, because he chose to spread his stuff on the bed where they most often fucked, whenever Hojo hadn't been around.

"…What?" Genesis muttered out loud when a ratty yellow thing was placed on one of the pillows. The blond entered the bathroom, and the ex-First turned to look at his lovers, his eyebrows raised. Genesis grit his teeth, and Sephiroth gave it a long look, frowning deeply.

"Maybe he's more cracked than he looks… what kind of grown man has a stuffed chicken?"

"…That's a chocobo," Sephiroth corrected Zackary, crossing his arms. The General had always been fond of the birds.

Zack gave him an annoyed look. "Yeah—whatever. Same thing."

There was silence for a moment, where every man thought hard. Genesis spoke first, his whole frame tense.

He said carefully, speaking to all of them, "_I_ can take care of this. Give me some time, and he'll be gone, for _good_."

Angeal frowned at the man's headstrong, typically stubborn behavior. "We're all going to work together, Genesis."

"Don't do everything yourself, Gen," Zack encouraged, draping himself over the redhead.

Genesis didn't look like he was going to listen. To this day, he believed it was his fault they were in this mess, and his hatred for Hojo had been deep and unending. He was extremely protective of them, and that had been the cause of extra 'punishment' from Hojo more than once during his time.

The blond returned then, smelling faintly of soap. As he lay down and slightly curled up, the other men in the room watched him with wary and slightly hostile expressions.

He looked right at Sephiroth for a moment, and the ex-SOLDIERs froze. Hojo always had an uncanny ability to tell where they were; perhaps this blond could tell, too?

But blue eyes slid off him, and yellow lashes lowered. Angeal eyed the resting boy for a moment and turned, gesturing for the others to follow.

Downstairs, they sat on two couches that faced each other, each a vision of grim determination.

"…So what are we going to do?" Angeal asked, looking intrigued by all they _could_ do.

Sephiroth, ever the strategist and military specialist, brushed his bangs out of his face. He glanced up at the ceiling briefly and focused hard on each of his lover's faces, beginning to think up a plan much like he had when he had still been General.

It was his specialty, after all.


	3. My Humps

**Once again, thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, fav'd and alerted! And thanks to lirica for being the hundredth reviewer. :) The 'action' really starts next chapter. Haha... oh, poor Cloud. Enjoy chapter three, though! ;D**

**And ah...yes. Helga and Olga have a torrid, totally interesting story, but... eh, that's for another time. **

* * *

Zack leant back with a sigh, resting his head on the back of the couch. It had been a long, bitter conversation, but they had come to an agreement, finally. Genesis had been for a more drastic, flashy course of action immediately, while Angeal had been slightly reluctant to follow through with Genesis's plans, giving them one of his famous 'honor' speeches. They all knew that Angeal was itching to do something completely _awful, _but they also knew that he wanted to keep doing something like that as a last resort. But they were in a tough situation, and tough situations called for tough solutions; maybe they _would _end up doing something drastic in the very near future.

That blond upstairs was in for some rough treatment. He didn't care. It was his job to protect them; he was more than ready and willing to do whatever it took. They all _wanted_ to do this—to finally experience a little bit of satisfaction after all those years of pain.

"Ready?" he asked, patting his thighs and standing up. There had been a minute or two of silence after they had finished their plans.

Zack took Angeal's hand and tugged—the older man stood and grunted, "Easy, Pup." He didn't look all that annoyed, though, and his eyes glinted with mischief.

Genesis had started trying to braid Sephiroth's hair halfway through their debate, as a distraction of some sort, and he pulled gently on the silver mass in his hands to get the ex-General to follow them.

"So… we're gonna freak him out a little, first?"

Sephiroth smirked at Zack, batting Genesis's hands away and running his fingers through the massive braid, returning his hair to its normal state. "That is the plan. The real fun starts tomorrow."

* * *

The frantic buzzing in his pocket jolted Cloud from sleep. He fished his phone out with clumsy fingers and pressed a few buttons, holding it to his ear and groggily standing. He hadn't meant to fall asleep… but it had been a long ride up.

"…Hello?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Cloud!"

Cloud woke right on up.

"Aerith!" he said joyfully.

"Tell me everything about the new house! You left me out of the loop!"She sounded excited, and maybe a little bit pouty.

"Um," he began, smiling widely, "It's really nice. I'll send you pictures."

"How big?"

"Huge! I almost got lost earlier." His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, "But… it's sort of weird— I keep getting a weird feeling…like I'm…y'know." He chuckled nervously. "…Not alone in here."

Aerith was silent, and then she gave a musical little laugh. Cloud could picture her back in Midgar, tending to her flowers with a smile on her face, thinking he was crazy. She stopped giggling when he was silent. "You're serious?" she asked, sounding surprised. "Oh, Cloud—relax. I'm sure if I was all alone in a huge mansion I'd feel the same way."

Cloud pouted, turning and starting to unpack. He stuffed his underwear and socks into the top drawer, not saying anything.

Another giggle escaped the flower girl. "Cloud—"

"Don't 'Cloud' me," Cloud interrupted, pretending to be annoyed with her. He reached for an embarrassing pair of boxers he had gotten from Yuffie; there were the outlines of several naked women all over them. He smiled fondly at them and continued, "and I know it's not _haunted_ or anything. It's just a creepy place, kind of."

"'Cloud?' That's in interesting name," Zack said at that fantastic SOLDIER volume, actually only a few inches away from the blond. He had been trying to eavesdrop on Cloud's conversation, mostly because he could. His fingers itched to hit, strike, do _something_, but he refrained. They were _all_ going to enjoy this. As much as he wanted to hear that first loud crack of cartilage and bone as he smashed his fist into the other's face, he could wait. Cloud was lucky he had good patience, for a puppy.

"Mmm," Aerith hummed. "I'll bet."

Cloud giggled to himself, unable to help it. He was feeling giddy again—a _whole mansion_! Even Aerith seemed excited!

He reached for a pair of socks, only to touch the comforter. He blinked, tilted his head and looked around for them.

"Uh… hold on a sec," he muttered absently to Aerith, doing an about-face and scanning the ground.

After a few unsuccessful seconds, he spotted them on the dresser. Confused, he put them in their proper spot, inwardly chastising himself for having such a faulty memory.

"Okay," he said, returning to the conversation, "I'm back."

There was the rustling of flowers on the other end, and Aerith said, "You're unpacking, right? …I'll let you go."

His friend was a busy woman; Cloud said, understanding, "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Aer."

"'Kay." There was a click, and Cloud smiled with brief annoyance before putting his phone back in his pocket and continuing his unpacking.

The room gradually became eerily silent. Cloud heard the ticking from a grandfather clock somewhere. He thought it was _entirely_ too quiet, and stuffed some jeans into a bottom drawer, crowing, "What you gonna do with all that junk? All that junk inside your trunk!" This mansion needed _music_! …Even music as bad as his!

He sank to his knees and placed his shoes in the area beneath the dresser. He made his voice unnaturally high and sang, "I'ma get get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump!"

Sephiroth stared at Cloud with a deadpan expression. Genesis's eyes showed disbelief and not a little bit of revulsion. Zack said, putting a hand on his hip, speaking over Cloud's singing voice, "…Well, we've got our proof he's a crazy fucker too."

"I drive these brothers _crazy_, I do it on the _da—ily_; they treat me really _nicely_, they buy me all these _iiii—ces_…" Cloud opened the door, haphazardly tossed his now-empty suitcase into the next room with a deafening bang and trotted back inside his bedroom, continuing one of his most hated songs all the while (he just deemed it appropriate for the occasion, whatever this occasion was, and sang it anyway).

"Karan, they be sharin', all their money got me wearin' fly—Sebastian?"

His little toy chocobo was no longer on his bed.

Cloud fell silent, instantly suspicious. He had never really believed in the 'weirder' aspects of existence, but were _ghosts_ the cause of this? He felt ridiculous even thinking it, and felt so even more because he had jumped to the conclusion like a five year-old.

He was a little bit frightened, not that he'd admit it to anyone else.

Cloud crawled next to the bed and peered underneath it; Sebastian was beneath the mattress in a dusty heap. Cloud frowned, stuck his rump in the air so he could reach underneath and grab him, and he pulled the poor chocobo out. Cloud sat on the side of the bed and tried to brush the dust away. He supposed that the toy had just… fallen.

He sat cross-legged, hugged Sebastian to his chest and tried to think. The silence was a thick, tangible thing now that dragged him down, making him want to hide under a blanket or turn all the lights on and blare music.

A cold, powerful shiver wracked his tiny frame suddenly. It was the feeling you got when someone unexpectedly wrapped their fingers around the back of your neck.

Cloud shook hard and involuntarily let out a guttural, "Ggghh…_aah_—agh!" He scooted forward and shivered again, shutting his eyes. His neck had always been a really sensitive spot for him, as his stupid, annoying ex-boyfriend Reno had found out.

Deserting Sebastian, Cloud quickly hobbled out of the room, rubbing his shoulder and giving a last little tremble.

Angeal paused, watching the shaken blond teeter out of the room and down the hallway. He placed his raised hand down at his side and said to the others, "He is… extremely sensitive." He was actually surprised he hadn't lost his composure and squeezed that slender throat—how many times had he imagined doing that to Hojo? He had been poised to kill, but he had somehow resisted. He hoped that that hadn't been a grave mistake.

His eyebrows drew together, and he shot a quick glance at Zack. _Mama Bear_, the Puppy often called him, teasingly. He was supposed to protect his three beautiful lovers, and he vowed that he'd do so. He had his honor and his morals, but if killing one boy, no matter how young, was what he'd have to do to protect them, he'd do it.

"No kidding," Zack said, a mean glint that no one really knew how to react to in his eyes. Zack was usually so innocent, even after all they had been through, and seeing that slightly manic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes in his eyes made them pause and maybe even feel a little bit sad. "That's probably good for us—it'll be easier for us to scare the _shit_ outta him then, eh?"

Sephiroth sent him an unreadable look and swept out of the bedroom, Genesis on his heels. Waves of discontent and anger pulsed off of the two "drama queens," as Zack good-naturedly called them.

Cloud started down one of the massive staircases, sliding his hand across the smooth, polished wood of the banister. The carpet was pleasantly soft beneath his socked feet; Cloud had toed off his sneakers earlier.

He decided that his freaky episode in his new bedroom was sort of like those weird hot flashes you got in the middle of the summer that were, for some reason, freezing.

Or maybe, the chills had been brought on… by a _ghost_. (Why did his thoughts keep going back to ghosts? he briefly wondered.) Wasn't that supposed to happen—a ghost goes through you or something, and you got the chills?

Cloud wasn't able to spend any more time thinking about it. His right knee buckled about ten steps from the bottom, and he lurched forward. The movement was just like back in elementary school in Midgar, when he'd chop the back of his friends' knees while they were on the balance beam out on the playground, and they'd fall off, so he could get on. He let out a tremendous shriek that echoed in the huge room as he tumbled down the stairs, arms flying up to protect his face.

He rolled once, smacking the heel of his left foot against the railing. He came to a stop on the polished marble of the floor on his back, legs up and over his head.

He wasn't too injured. Cloud was just glad that no one had seen his embarrassing trip.

Cloud let out a low squeaking noise, checking out his poor, bruised body. He even cried a little; he'd admit it. There were two tiny tears that slipped out, but he wiped them away, took in a deep breath and was fine.

"Aww… I made him cry," Genesis cooed nastily, actually on all fours directly above Cloud.

Sephiroth looked slightly nervous for Genesis, not wanting the redhead to be so close to Hojo's successor. What if the blond had a needle on him, or something? He could plunge it into Genesis's stomach long before any of them could try to save him. The fear he felt for Genesis predictably made Sephiroth beyond angry, and he took two rapid steps forward, prepared to do something ridiculous, like rip an arm off of the stupid boy like he had done to that one Wutaian warrior—

But, Genesis had that gleam in his eyes again. No one doubted that if Cloud tried anything, he'd have a face full of fireball before he could blink. Sephiroth decided that Genesis could handle it, and he stood back, even though his instincts screamed at him to move and _kill_ before Genesis could be harmed.

All Cloud did was giggle quietly as his stomach let out a loud rumble. He patted his tummy, stood up smoothly (Genesis was careful to stand too, not touching him) and hobbled to the kitchen. He was followed.

Zack waved his hands and stuck up the middle finger in front of Cloud's face; Cloud didn't flinch. Angeal and Sephiroth intensely studied the back of Cloud's head; Cloud didn't feel the heat of the stares. Genesis smirked, because even though he had been _this close_ to the boy earlier, he hadn't had any idea.

Being invisible had its serious advantages.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

"He was _so cute_!"

There wasn't much to do in Nibelheim. That is, there wasn't much to do in Nibelheim except get drunk or fuck. Usually, the two activities came hand-in-hand.

Tifa Lockhart, however, wasn't really a drinker, and nor did she sleep around. This came to the dismay of many a man in Nibelheim who had his eye on the brunette, but she didn't really care. One day she'd find a guy who she'd just _know_ was right. She'd have that whole love-at-first-sight thing.

But when she overheard two of her neighbors talking (they were practically _all_ neighbors in Nibelheim), she perked up. Besides drinking and fucking, the only other thing to do was gossip.

"Who's cute?" She asked, smiling and coming into the conversation. They were in the middle of the main square, though no one else really paid them any attention.

The girl who had spoken before—Helga—turned to Tifa and said, "Hey, Tifa. I dunno his name. He's new, though!"

"New?" Since when did people _move to Nibelheim?_

"Yeah," the other female—Olga—chimed. "He came on a motorcycle, from Midgar! We could tell from the license plate." Olga lowered her voice and whispered, "He was hot in the way city boys are hot. All lean muscles and perfect skin…"

"But he was thinner," Helga said sagely. "Not very big, but I tell you Tifa—he worked it, _good_."

All three females shared a short, slightly perverted laugh.

"Gimme some more detail," Tifa said, nudging Olga.

"Blond hair," the girl answered. "Blue eyes, like you'd never believe!"

Oh, she was _so_ in. That was her favorite combination in a man—everyone in Nibelheim was too old to have a hair color other than white or was a redhead. …Herself not included.

Helga giggled. "He's _so_ cute! Oh—but he went to the mansion."

Tifa blinked. "The mansion? Eww, who would live there?"

"I heard he's that dead Hojo's nephew," Olga said cryptically. Neither of the other girls asked her how she had obtained this information.

"That's gotta suck," Tifa sighed. Hojo had been a creeper, all right; she had stopped by to give him cookies for Christmas once, and he had accepted them, speaking to her boobs, not her face. The butler gave her the creeps, too. He was a foreigner, if she recalled correctly.

Helga and Olga nodded. Tifa glanced up at the mountain, making out the very top of a chimney way off in the distance.

"Do you think he… needs help settling in?" the brunette asked, cracking a grin.

The girls laughed. "Go on, you," Helga encouraged, accent thick as she giggled, She lightly gave her a light slap on the upper arm.

Tifa did have her morals, but it wouldn't hurt to just _look_. She could offer to show him around town a bit. It was a creepy mansion; no one wanted to be cooped up in there for any amount of time by themselves.

Isn't that what neighbors were for?


	4. Target Sighted, Commence Mission

**A/N: You guys rock. Really. :) Thank you everyone for all the support this story is getting! And a great super big thank you to Koruyuha for being IM's 150th reviewer. Oh, and if you didn't get a review reply, I'm sorry. I'm sure we all know how screwy this site has been the past week or so. I remember I got alerts for a good chunk of chapter three's reviews all at once, like a day after those people reviewed. Weird. Anyway, enjoy chapter four! This one's one of my favorites.**

**B/N:** Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! I've only been able to reply to a few of you because of my crazy schedule but rest assured that I appreciate them all! _**NOTICE: Some of you seem really upset that Cloud is being hated by the others. Please rest assured that things WILL get better. (please refer to the title...) and the hating WILL stop but you guys gotta be patient okay? THANKS!**_

* * *

Cloud was hard-pressed for sleep that night.

He lay curled-up in a ball with his new sheets over his head, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as he could. Every noise seemed amplified in this dark, freezing night; he scrunched himself into more of a ball and lifted a corner of the blanket, letting some fresh air into the now-damp enclosure he had created.

Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he could not sleep.

Maybe it was because he had never been good at falling asleep in places other than his bed, back at his Midgar apartment. Maybe it was because of the mattress—it was softer than his old, crappy, rock-hard one, and he hadn't gotten used to it yet.

Cloud knew the real reasons were the noises, and his own paranoid thoughts.

He tried—he really did try—to not think about it, but his mind paid far too much attention to the little things that kept happening. Sebastian had a loose thread, and every time he looked at the poor thing, it was longer, as if someone had pulled on it. He hugged the yellow bird to his chest.

The kitchen faucet kept leaking; he'd turn the water all the way off, and once satisfied that it was firmly shut off, he'd look away. When he eventually turned back to it, there would be a tiny stream of water, making a noise that echoed in the dead-silent house. That was probably the faulty plumbing, but it was still… _weird_.

His bedroom door needed a new lock too. He had tried to shut it, and after hearing a click, had changed into his pajamas. But just as he had been ready to crawl underneath the covers, he had shot a glance at the door.

Wide open.

Every time he closed it, it would pop back open. He had sworn under his breath, stubbornly pushing it back. Eventually he gave up, shooting it a dirty look and lying down.

After a few minutes of silence… the _noises_ had started. Maybe they had been there all along, and his brain only really started picking them up when he had fully relaxed. Maybe the creaks, snaps and bangs _had_ only started when he had tried to get some shut-eye.

There was one of those loud squeaks from beside the bed, the kind that were usually caused by an old floorboard being stepped on. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and tensed, but there was no death blow, no axe that came out of nowhere and cut him in half. He didn't dare relax though; he rolled over, covered his ears with a pillow and prepared himself for a long night.

A few feet away, Sephiroth said to Zack, who was doing squats beside the bed, making the noises that made the blond whimper, "Zackary. Let us sleep." He nodded his head at Cloud. "He's the one who needs to be tired tomorrow, not us."

Zack smiled, doing a last squat and taking Sephiroth's hand, squeezing. Sephiroth gently tugged on lightly tanned fingers and led Zack to their 'bedroom,' now an elegant room on the opposite side of the mansion. Angeal and Genesis were sleepily relaxing, trying to amuse themselves while waiting for them to return. Genesis was snuggling Angeal from behind, trying to capture the older man's earlobe with his teeth, though his tiredness was mostly making his mouth bump against the back of the man's neck. Angeal wasn't complaining; he was smiling widely at the little butterfly kisses, and at Genesis's cute behavior. They looked up when Zack and Sephiroth entered, looking pleased to see them.

After stripping, Zack crawled over all of them and pressed up against Angeal, hearing Sephiroth get comfortable beside Genesis.

"…'Night," Zack murmured tiredly. "Tomorrow's gonna be fun."

"Indeed," Genesis sighed, reaching over and running his hands through the youngest's black spikes.

The mentally and physically exhausted men fell asleep quickly, for the most part. Angeal, however, resisted the urge to close his eyes and slumber, eyeing the others in the bed and thinking.

He didn't trust this 'Cloud.' If they _all_ fell asleep, they could be easily be taken advantage of. Angeal pinched his thigh and gazed at the beautiful men beside him, letting out a deep sigh.

Cloud had a long night, haunted by phantom sounds and ghouls his mind had created. Plagued by memories of his past—which could very well repeat itself—Angeal had an even longer one.

* * *

When Cloud woke up in the morning, he lay in bed for a while, just staring at the ceiling. He was _tired_.

The room was pleasantly chilly, and he dozed under the blankets for a brief while before finally stretching and getting out of bed. He still had unpacking to do. He needed a shower, he needed to try to introduce himself to the townspeople (it was always a good idea to have a friendly neighbor nearby), he needed a _job_, and he needed to get something to _eat_!

Yesterday he had found granola bars in the first cabinet he had opened. He had grabbed two, and that had been his dinner.

Now his stomach was growling at him again. Cloud padded downstairs in his pajamas, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

After a night of being cooped up in his bedroom, the mansion seemed even more fantastic than it had yesterday. Everything was so… _expensive_. Cloud happily looked around at everything as he made his way downstairs, managing to remember how to get himself to the kitchen. The still elegance of the house, which, to be perfectly honest, had frightened him a bit the previous night, looked inviting in the morning light. He peeked out a window; he got amazing sunrises.

When he peered into the fridge, he was prepared for the worst. Tseng had told him that everything was just as it was when Hojo bit the dust—and that included the food. There wasn't any rotting meat or fuzzy, half-alive bread; in fact, it was almost empty. There was a lone gallon of milk in the back, and a bowl of fruit on a shelf. Neither looked promising. Cloud decided that he'd go through it all later.

Cloud had no intention to eat food a dead man had touched. (Obviously, a _dead man_ hadn't touched it, but a man who was _now_ dead… yeah. Cloud didn't want any Hojo-germs on him.)

He systematically explored the kitchen cabinets, finding various things that made him smile, like an unopened pack of Oreos and cans of soda. The good stuff was almost _hidden_ though—it was all behind nasty, _old man_ junk. Instant mashed potatoes in some disgusting flavor. Cream of poo-poo soup. …_Baby food_.

Did Hojo not have _teeth_ or something! How the hell did the man survive?

In one cabinet, he found nothing but protein shakes. One had powdered drink mix, like Kool-Aid. There was a plastic bag full of nothing but that button-candy, where you ended up eating just as much paper as actual candy.

What. The. Hell?

Cloud found a tiny unopened box of fruit loops and took it, along with a handful of Oreos. He sat at the tiny kitchen table, not daring to sit at that huge dining room table. Cloud eyed his food and sighed.

The breakfast of champions.

When he had finished his cereal, he became thirsty. He grabbed one of the cans of soda he had found earlier. He opened it and took a sip, trotting back to the table. He sat.

…Or, he _meant _to sit. His butt missed his chair by about two feet, and he crashed to the floor, spilling his drink all over himself.

Zack gave a mean snort at the mess of a human being on the ground. Sephiroth snickered softly, and he snagged one of Cloud's Oreos. Sephiroth had a sweet tooth like none other.

"That was for Angeal, kid," Zack said. When they had woken up this morning, Angeal had given them all a drunk smile before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp. They had panicked, afraid that Angeal was drugged or worse, but figured out that he was only asleep. He had stayed up all night watching over them, and even though that was an excruciatingly cute thing to do, it wasn't smart. Angeal was asleep at the moment, and he probably wouldn't wake up for another few hours.

Cloud made a sad noise and sat up. A quick search of the kitchen didn't reveal a mop, but he found a pack of sponges under the sink, and he used that. He took one and tossed the package onto the stove, getting down to business.

…Something was burning.

Covered in the sticky remains of his soda, Cloud sniffed the air, pausing in his cleaning of the floor. Yep… something was _definitely_ burning.

"Fuck!" Cloud exclaimed, standing up in a panic. The source of the problem was found easily enough.

The front left burner of the stove was on. It was melting the plastic wrapping of the pack of sponges, sending an awful smell into the air (_wasn't burning plastic poisonous?_ Cloud's mind thought). Cloud stared at it for a moment, then sprang into action.

After he had managed to scrape the toxic mess off with a spatula he found, Cloud gave a weary sigh and finished cleaning. And once done, he eyed himself, cursed his shitty luck and padded upstairs, ready to get a shower and clean himself up.

How did he miss the chair, honestly?

He didn't dwell on it for long. Cloud found he immensely liked the shower in his bedroom's bathroom. There was a cool sliding glass door that guarded his privacy—it was that weird, warped, patterned glass, so no one could see anything other than a slightly distorted blur if they looked inside. There were three showerheads that beat down on his sore muscles and _damn_, it felt good.

Cloud tried to ignore a little voice inside him that kept harping about the events in the kitchen. …Maybe it was just a bad stove. How else would it have turned on by itself?

He stopped rinsing the shampoo he had made the movers cart from Midgar to Nibelheim out of his spikes when the water seemed to… heat up. He frowned and grasped the knob, which had turned all the way to the left, twisting it back to the middle of the heat spectrum.

It turned easily, and satisfied, Cloud went back to his business. But quickly he realized that even though he had set the water to be a bit colder, the water was still heating up. He squinted his eyes so he wouldn't get soap in them and twisted the knob all the way to the right. It should have been freezing, but it was still getting hotter.

It was a good shower; the water heated up quickly. Cloud winced as it got uncomfortably hot, unsuccessfully trying to get it back to normal. As the water's temperature became scalding, Cloud realized he had lost this battle. Fucking faulty pipes. Scrabbling fingers tugged on the groove in the glass to slide open the door. That didn't work either.

Cloud slammed the heel of his hand into the knob, trying to turn the water off. It moved in, and the water should've turned off, but it was still coming down!

He hissed loudly as he realized he was trapped in this wet, burning hell. With three showerheads, there wasn't anywhere to hide. Panic flared up as Cloud kept trying the door, hunched over from the pain. That exposed his back more, and he whimpered loudly at his _unbelievably_ bad luck.

When it started feeling like he was being jabbed with freaking _exacto_ blades, he said _fuck it_ to his pride and screamed, voice bouncing off the walls and hurting his ears. He was sure his skin was as red as a lobster—a few minutes more, and he wouldn't be surprised it if peeled itself off. It felt like he was being skinned with a hot knife.

Using strength he didn't know he had, the panicking blond drew a fist back and smashed it right into the shower door.

The glass shattered.

Cloud leapt out of the shower, trying to land somewhere where there wasn't too much broken glass. It proved to be a difficult task, and pain blossomed in his left foot. He paid it no mind, however, and hopped out of the ruined bathroom naked, on his good foot. Trembling and smarting and pretty sure he was burnt, Cloud dove onto his bed and sat, shivering and staring at the bathroom.

This house _looked_ amazing, but it was dangerous. So many things had gone wrong already… did _nothing_ work correctly here?

As his adrenaline wore off, the cuts in his foot and hand became apparent. He eyed the blood dripping onto the carpet and cupped his good hand under his bad one. He awkwardly tugged on a pair of boxers and slowly made his way into Hojo's room, trying to find a first-aid kit and trying hard not to cry. Surely the old man took care of himself?

"…That was interesting," Genesis remarked, watching Cloud hobble out of the room. He had been the one to hold the door shut, and only his good reflexes had saved him from getting hit by flying glass when Cloud had broken it. He decided to leave the water running and joined Sephiroth in the hallway.

Hojo hadn't had what he was looking for in his room, nor in his bathroom. Cloud took a slightly painful trip downstairs and finally found a first-aid kit in the parlor, though why it was there, he'd never know.

This room had the whole white thing going on, but also had a few creative touches of purple. He gingerly sat on the slightly-uncomfortable couch, careful to not let his hyper-sensitive back touch any of the fabric.

The first-aid kit was… weird. There was the typical set of band-aids, but there were things in bottles and packets that he couldn't even begin to pronounce. He nudged aside a pack of bandages and blinked.

There were two syringes lying in the bottom. One was full of a clear liquid, and the other's fluid was a fascinating, glowing green. He held the green one up to the light, admiring how pretty it looked.

Sephiroth led Genesis and Zack into the parlor, eyes sweeping the mansion for their current intruder. He found him, all right. He saw the green syringe in the blond's hand and whipped around, throwing his arms around the smaller men and hurling them back into the entrance hall, immediately getting them out of harm's way.

Cloud heard two loud bangs that scared him, and he put the syringes back into their container and hobbled out into the main room of the house, looking for whatever had made the noise.

Nothing.

"What the hell, Seph?" Zack grunted, flat on his back in the middle of the room. Genesis swore, forgetting to speak carefully so that Cloud's ears couldn't pick his words up. Luckily, the boy hadn't heard.

"He had Mako," Sephiroth gravely stated. The other two stared—this meant that, without a doubt, that blond _was_ here to continue where Hojo left off. Wicked anger and hostility was in the men's eyes as they glared down the half-naked boy, who shrugged and limped back into the room.

Cloud sighed, found a pair of tweezers and began the painful process of getting rid of any glass that had gotten into his skin. His knuckles seemed to be fine, but he pulled a long shard of bloody glass out of his abused foot. Once satisfied (and in more than a little pain), he grabbed a bottle of disinfecting spray and took a deep breath.

Two quick sprits on his hand and foot, and Cloud waited for the burn. He shrieked at the top of his lungs when it felt like his foot was _eating itself_… but before long the pain was gone, and he bandaged the two body parts up.

If it got infected, he'd go to a doctor. But for now, he was content.

Cloud left the kit on the table, retrieved his cell phone from his bedroom and sat on a comfy armchair in the library, wanting to be somewhere calm for this next bit. He hesitated briefly, then called Tseng, with the number he had programmed into his phone the day after he met the man for the first time. It only rang once before a familiar voice said, "Hello?"

"Uh, Tseng? Hi—it's Cloud Strife."

"Tseng…" Genesis breathed slowly, fists clenching. "That _traitor_."

Tseng sounded interested when he answered, "Cloud. Hello. To what do I owe this honor?"

Cloud smiled shyly at the smooth voice. "Um… I called because, well…" he paused. He hadn't thought about it much, but he realized he'd sound like an absolute _freak_ if he asked, 'hey, I'm scared—is this house haunted?'

He was silent, and an innocent voice asked, "Yes, Cloud?"

Frowning, Cloud said, "Umm… never mind."

Tseng seemed to have expected that answer and chuckled. "Don't tell me you're through with the mansion already," he said, amusement lacing his tone. "That would be a shame."

"Oh, no!" Cloud exclaimed. "That's not it. I just… uh…"

Tseng's voice turned stony as he said calmly, "Good. Because even if you wanted to leave, you couldn't."

Instant confusion. "Huh?"

"It was in the contract you signed," Tseng said, a fake smile in his voice, "which you failed to read over. At the moment, all bills and costs are being paid by me, as is Hojo's will. If you move to another location, then that burden is transferred to you. And we both know that you could not shoulder the cost."

Cloud blinked, then burst, "_What_!"

Thousands of miles away, the Wutaiain man relaxed in his chair, fingers tapping a slight beat on his thigh. He was slightly worried though—it had been sooner than he had expected that Cloud had called, obviously worried about "ghosts." He was sort of surprised the blond was still alive, really—those four in that mansion were vicious when they were threatened, as he knew all too well.

He knew Hojo had been fond of his young nephew, somewhere in his twisted heart. It was a shame the boy had to deal with all this while not having a clue, but it had to be so.

_Better him than me_, a hard voice inside him sneered.

_Tseng was working fast, fingers giving an unnoticeable tremble every now and again. Hojo was dead—the explosion had rattled the whole house. There wasn't much time left before those four came after him; Tseng knew he had to get out of the house quickly, before the sedatives wore off and they came back to full awareness._

_He swept through Hojo's desk, pulling out pens and paper and important-looking documents. He stashed it all in a briefcase he had left on a windowsill once upon a time and kicked the shit out of Hojo's computer before he left, not thinking he had enough time to wipe a hard drive. Damn. _

_The mansion seemed big and foreboding as he left, and he could honestly say he was _quite _glad to get out of there and never come back. He kept moving though Nibelheim—shitty, backwater, repulsive Nibelheim—and called one of his Turks, breath only slightly irregular as he ran. The townspeople were staring (of course they were—his suit was covered in Mako and Hojo's blood and some more of that madman's lab-fluids and Gaia knew what else) but he ignored them._

_He had to do something to ensure that those four wouldn't come after him. They were, for the most part, bound to the house, but he didn't doubt that if they had to, they'd find a way to get to him. They needed something to attack at Nibelheim, so their attention would efficiently be drawn away from him._

_When the helicopter came, Tseng climbed aboard, nodded at the incredulous look the Turk was giving him, sat in the backseat, and hurriedly shifted through all the papers he had collected. He did his best to wash off his hand and forged Hojo's will right there in the copter. _

_Cloud Strife. He was Hojo's nephew—lived all alone in Midgar, an orphan as of the age fifteen. He was young. A delivery boy. He wouldn't be missed. And really, he wasn't about to leave the mansion to _Rufus_, another distant nephew of Hojo's. Gaia knew his 'boss' had enough things in this world._

_Tseng left the boy the mansion and gave himself the financial burden (being at Turk let you get away with quite a lot of things, legal or no. Not that anyone else was going to know about this, but if it came down to it, he'd get away with it). It was nothing to him, and this ensured that Strife would accept the deal and wouldn't be able to leave. Because really, a delivery boy paying for the cost of _Nibelheim Manor_? Laughable._

_He enjoyed a week or so after returning from his years-long "kidnapping" by Hojo, deflected questions as to whether he had "seen" the other four men who were "kidnapped," (he had smirked to himself a little at that, and then felt like he was going to throw up) and carefully arranged everything for Strife's arrival, from a distance._

_The day he knocked on Strife's door was the day he knew he was sacrificing another human being to the mercy of four bloodthirsty, invisible, tortured, super-enhanced men for his own safety. It didn't bother him; it wasn't like he hadn't done worse._

There was no way in hell he was going to set foot back in that mansion, _ever_. He'd probably be ripped apart on the spot. No, it was better that Cloud was there. He'd happily pay for Cloud's mortgage and his water and his heat as long as _those four_ didn't come after _him_. (And he couldn't afford to forget about the mansion's original owner either, a worried voice inside him nagged.) A contact of his was in Nibelheim, so he'd know if the boy tried to sneak away. The Turks were always ready to do things for him—he supposed they thought that he had been at Hojo's mercy as well and thought he was some sort of hero for returning to Shin-Ra after everything. Fools. Still, it made things exceedingly easy for him.

He was pleased with the current arrangement.

"Indeed," Tseng said, smiling widely in his high-class apartment. The boy was a cute little thing—Tseng felt a shiver; no doubt Hojo would find a way to come back from the dead if he knew he was thinking about his beloved nephew that way. Even though he hadn't _actually _left Strife the Manor, Tseng knew Hojo would probably still get all protective and would decide to 'test' on him if he was still alive. His favorite niece's beautiful angel, he had heard Hojo mutter to himself a few years back, as the man had stared at a picture of a younger Cloud sandwiched between two smiling parents. Creepy, but some sort of affection was obviously in the old madman's heart for Cloud. But none of that mattered anymore—Hojo was dead, and Tseng was safe. For now.

Back in Nibelheim, Cloud spluttered angrily, eyes narrowed. Tseng was silent, radiating smugness through the tiny speaker. He hung up without saying goodbye and tossed his phone onto another armchair.

"Bastard…" he grunted.

He needed some fresh air.

Not caring that he was still only in boxers, Cloud left the house and decided to take a look at the grounds. He was beyond mad at Tseng (and at himself for not reading what he was signing), and he needed to do something to distract himself.

Everything was remarkably well-cared for. The grass was starting to get out of hand though; Cloud knew that now, _he'd_ have to mow it. _There had better be a ride mower_, Cloud thought bitterly.

Flowers were abundant, and Cloud spent a few minutes examining the pretty colors. They reminded him of Aerith, and his spirits lifted a little at the thought of his friend. Eventually he moved on, eyeing the interesting mountain trees and the amazing view.

And there, like a gift from Gaia herself, was a _pool_. Cloud let out a happy whoop and limped as fast as he could to the pool's edge. It was nestled behind the mansion, surrounded by lush green grass. Cloud almost had a stroke.

The pool itself was big and sprawled out in some unidentifiable (but attractive) shape. There was a _hot tub_ too; it was a bit higher than the pool, and there was a bubbly waterfall leading from it to the shallow end of the pool. The deep end had a diving board, and Cloud smiled widely at the sight.

He sat on the edge of the deep end and gazed down at the crystal-clear water, sticking his good foot into it.

The company's resident 'fish,' Genesis, beamed widely at Sephiroth and Zack, deposited his clothing on the ground and slid into the water slowly, careful not to make any ripples. Zack smiled as Genesis took a quiet breath and deftly swam towards the hurt, wounded boy like a shark.

Cloud hummed a little tune, swishing his foot around. Even though his life was pretty weird right now, and his new house was probably haunted, there was always a nice place like this where he could go, to get some peace. It was reassuring.

Something wrapped around Cloud's ankle suddenly and yanked, pulling him into the water.


	5. Anguish

**Tobi: Woaaaah! Thanks so much everyone for the amazing feedback for last chapter. Himitsu shi was IM's two-hundredth reviewer-thanks! Yeah, stuff pretty much sucks for Cloud right now, but it'll get better. And lol, (spoiler warning?) Cloud's not gonna die. ;D how's the 'Invisible Molestation' gonna happen if he's dead? (Don't answer that...) Er. Thanks again, everybody.**

**CM: Look at all those reviews! -pokes Tobi- XD Thank you all sooo much! I wanna especially thank Azinine for pointing out something that both Tobi and I overlooked. Thanks again! This is my favorite chapter so far! At the end of this you all aren't allowed to hate anyone anymore. Except Hojo. Hate Hojo. ^_^**

* * *

Cloud Strife had never been a good swimmer.

This came to be a severe disadvantage when he was dragged into his pool by an unidentified _something_, horribly scraping up his already-tender back in the process.

Whatever this thing was, it was strong. There was a brief moment where he was still with shock, just after he hit the water, where the iron grip around his ankle tightened. It would probably leave a bruise, Cloud noted dully.

Then his senses caught up to him, and he panicked. Cloud thrashed wildly like a caged animal, trying to escape whatever it was. Twice his head managed to break the surface, but he only managed a shaky half-breath before the thing stubbornly pulled him back under.

It was trying to drown him.

Oh Gaia… what if it was a _monster_? One that had come out of the Nibel woods? Cloud's foggy, oxygen-deprived brain went into overdrive at the thought, and Cloud fought viciously, kicking and punching and squirming like crazy. If he didn't… he'd _die_.

His heel connected with something hard, and the thing around his ankle briefly let go. Through a surge of pain coming from his hurt foot, Cloud sloppily dragged himself out of the water, only half-conscious. He scrambled on his hands and knees about fifteen feet away, then promptly threw up all the water he had swallowed in his impromptu duel with the monster.

Cloud flipped onto his bottom and eyed the pool with wide, bloodshot eyes. He was expecting something to crawl out of the water and chase after him… but, it was calm.

The Nibelheim sun was still shining down on the beautiful backyard. Somewhere, two birds were chirping. You'd never guess a city boy had almost croaked.

Genesis came out of the water slowly, but only his eyes and mouth came above the surface. If he stood up, Cloud would hear dripping and would know where he was.

Zack and Sephiroth looked beside themselves. Zack looked like he was going to jump in and save him, and Sephiroth looked seconds away from killing Cloud, _slowly_.

"I'm fine," he assured them. "He kicked me in the chest, and I let him go." He frowned. "That boy has a special ability to not die."

They still looked worried. "You sure?" Zack asked. A short distance away, Cloud was a heaving, panting mess: soaking wet, covered in bloody, wet, ruined bandages, skin burned pink, and a terrified, shocked look on his face.

Perfect.

Cloud didn't stick around for any longer—he got up and sprinted for the house, hearing nothing but his panicked heartbeat and sobbing, half-gasping cries. He slammed his front door shut and locked it with shaking fingers, then dove onto a couch and wept bitterly.

He didn't care that he was a wet mess or that he was ruining a super-expensive couch—_he was alive_, and that's what mattered.

Hot tears coursed down his face, and Cloud muffled himself with a pillow, hating how the pathetic noises echoed in the silence.

* * *

_It was always the worst when Hojo had all of them together._

_The crazy bastard knew that they were all very close friends. He didn't know about their relationship, thankfully, but he used the links between them that he _was _aware of to produce 'interesting' reactions in all of them._

_They had been imprisoned in the Nibelheim Mansion for, what? A few months? Longer? Angeal didn't know—every day was a mix of humiliation, pain and fury. You couldn't blame him for losing track of time._

_He was in one of Hojo's holding 'cages'—behind bars and heavily bleeding from a deep wound in his side. Hojo had decided to see how well he could function without his pancreas, but Genesis had purposely made a loud distraction, thus making Hojo lose interest in Angeal and going to punish the redhead. Now he was hazy from losing so much blood and was unable to help Genesis and Zack, who were at the madman's mercy at the moment. He hated not being in control, and Hojo knew that. More often than not he or Sephiroth would be stuck here, forced to watch Hojo experiment with the others' bodies, at his leisure and at his own pace. _

_Hojo was a sickening human. Even Genesis, who was an expert at spitting out nasty names for someone was silent and struggled to find a word horrible enough to suit the old man._

_The drugs Hojo had them under twenty-four hours a day (except, of course, during experiments—It would _never _do for them to not feel the full effect of what he did to them) were making Angeal lethargic and sleepy, but he forced himself to stay awake. He shifted, turning his head so he could look at Sephiroth. _

_The ex-General was floating in a Mako tank, breathing tube shoved down his throat. Various other wires and tubes were attached to different parts of his body. It was worse than hell being in one, but Angeal was glad he was in there. Mako healed, too—and Sephiroth certainly needed it. Hojo had been especially violent today, lamenting the failure of his 'prized experiment.' Sephiroth had almost died. And whatever was enough to make _Sephiroth _die had to be especially awful. Hojo hadn't let them see what he had done to the man earlier that morning._

_It was enough to make a man go insane._

_Angeal sent a quick prayer for Sephiroth's pain to lessen, even just a little bit, and sluggishly returned his attention to Genesis and Zack. The hole in his side was oozing blood slowly, he knew—he could feel it—but he couldn't bring himself to care. There were more important things to worry about._

_The two of them were strapped down on two stone tables in the center of the room. That was Hojo for you—no extra comfort, only the bare necessities to make sure you didn't die. Even so, infections were by no means a rare occurrence._

_Hojo was standing in between the two tables, looking back and forth between them. Both were naked, but that hardly bothered the scientist. The straps on Genesis's wrists and ankles were straining, but they didn't break. They never did._

_The wound in Genesis's stomach was a bad one. With each of the man's erratic breaths, a little bit of blood would spill over the edges of the gash and would roll down the redhead's side and onto the metal of the examining table. From where Angeal was, he could see Genesis's guts threatening to burst out and join the blood in the puddle of wetness and gunk on the table, but they stayed in._

_Angeal was worried, thought that it might have been too much for Genesis, and _why wasn't Hojo healing him yet, before he died? _but then he remembered that Hojo especially liked to see Genesis suffer. He never had been too fond of Genesis to begin with, even when they were all children._

_The scalpel still stabbed into the bottom of Genesis's foot worried him, too. Genesis was silent, jaw clenched as he glared right at Hojo. Genesis never screamed; his pride was too great for something like that, even during the moments where Hojo was his worst._

_Zack was watching Genesis's stomach with wide eyes. They had learned early on that begging for mercy would only make him draw out the pain more. Zack was unharmed, lying back against his table, skin pale. His and Genesis's eyes met, and Genesis sent a _be strong _message to his younger lover. Zack desperately wanted Genesis to realize that he _didn't need it_, he was strong himself and wanted the man to take care of _himself _more, provoke Hojo less and end up like _that _less often. Genesis never listened, though._

_Angeal's finger's tightened around the bars of the cage. It was torture—just as bad as the physical kind—seeing all three immobilized and unable to receive his help. _

_Hojo gave Zack's body a critical look, and he grabbed a little box off one of the counters. He pulled out a syringe, but it was much bigger than any of the ones any man had seen before. The needle was wider than any Hojo had used previously, but the sheer _amount _of Mako there repulsed all of them. Having just a little bit of Mako injected into your system was painful, but having as much as Hojo had—it had to have been a pint, at least—would have been excruciating._

_Hojo turned to Zack, and Angeal jerked violently, trying to rip the cage apart. There was a powerful shock that jolted through the metal and into his body, making Angeal fly back and strike his head against the far wall, vision distorted and black for a moment._

_That was one of Tseng's many jobs—making them feel like wild animals in a hellish zoo, not worth an ounce of respect or privacy or kindness. Tseng let go of the button that electrocuted the cage and gave Angeal a level, blank stare. Angeal wanted to _kill _that man._

_Hojo bent, about to plunge the needle into Zack's arm. Genesis spat and cursed at the old man, trying to keep Zack healthy, even if just for a minute or two longer._

_Without looking Hojo swung out with a knife and cut another long gash in Genesis's torso. _

"_Be quiet," the old man said in a voice that dripped in annoyance, like Genesis was a three year old who was disobeying._

_Genesis didn't make a noise that betrayed the pain he was feeling, and seemed to ignore his new injury for now. Angeal's hazy brain tried to summon up the power to break out, rescue all three, but he came up with nothing. Genesis was hurting, he knew, and with luck he wouldn't harm himself. Once he had bitten through his own tongue in an effort to keep silent, and Hojo had just barely saved him. His tongue was roughly sewn back on and he had spent a week in the Mako to make sure he wouldn't die, but the punishment that the man received when he got out was enough to make the other three wish Genesis _had _died, just so he wouldn't be suffering anymore._

_Hojo jabbed the needle into Zack's arm, and Zack went tense all over, also refusing to make any noise. Zack was stronger than they thought, but Hojo always targeted him, since he was the youngest and __weakest and because they made such _interesting _noises when begging him to leave Fair alone._

"_Do you know what this is?" Hojo sneered. "This is special. Perhaps it can even make you less of a failure…" he shot a glare of pure hatred at Sephiroth, who was motionless. "But then again, odds are that you won't survive this, so I'm not keeping my hopes up."_

_Genesis continued to swear and strain as the huge amount of Mako entered Zack's bloodstream. Zack managed to send the man a brief warning glance before his eyes rolled back and his back arched, a long scream involuntarily bursting from his lips. _

_Angeal watched dumbly as Zack's whole body thrashed, the limbs moving as if on their own. Something was wrong—Mako didn't do this to you. It was painful, yes, but Zack had never displayed such a lack of control when injected with it before._

_And now that he thought about it some more, the color of the liquid had been off. It was a little bit greener, a little bit more sinister than the usual stuff. And there was so much of it—what the hell _was _it?_

_Zack repeatedly smashed the back of his head against the metal of the table, skull making a sickening crunch each time he did it; Genesis flinched at each of the bangs. One second Zack was stretched out, back arched to the point where Angeal feared it might snap, and the next he was curled on himself as much as the restraints allowed, with that gods-awful _scream _exploding from his throat._

_And then… Zack started to fade._

"_Interesting," Hojo murmured, watching closely as Zack's form grew paler, then returned to normal. Genesis was still for once, staring at the younger man with his mouth hanging open._

_It must've been a trick of the eyes, or something. Because Zack was there, and then he _wasn't, _and then he was again—_

"_Puppy," Angeal whimpered, horrified._

_Sephiroth had bullied his way into consciousness; Angeal could see his eyes wide open in the tank. Clumps of his hair were still missing, his right arm and fingers were still broken and the slice on his leg that went down to the bone was still not fully healed, but it was something. The ex-General's eyes were trained on Zack, wide with disbelief._

_Was Zack going to the Lifestream? When you died, your body disintegrated and joined the Planet. Was this what was happening._

_Zack's haunting screaming didn't stop and he seizured on the table, but Hojo made no move to do anything to help him. He was a pale version of himself now, looking like a semi-transparent ghost in enormous agony._

_The screaming stopped, and Zack was gone. There was nothing on the table. Sephiroth's eyes clenched shut, Genesis continued to bleed in shocked silence, and Angeal realized he was crying._

_There was silence for about twenty seconds, and then Genesis roared, "What the fuck did you _do!_"_

"_Zack!" Angeal roared, throwing himself against the bars of the cage. Tseng pressed the button and he flew backwards again, unable to properly rage at the man who had just killed Zack._

_Sephiroth shuddered violently inside the Mako, bowing his head like he was going to throw up. A long-fingered hand clawed at the glass of the tank, like it was trying to break through so he could break out, but it was for naught. All you got for attempting that were bloody fingertips. He reached for his breathing tube, but Tseng did something with a control panel a few feet away from the tank and Sephiroth twisted and shook, then went still, unconscious again._

_Genesis was screaming at the top of his lungs at Hojo, ignoring it when his wrists and ankles started bleeding from his efforts._

"—_kill you! I'll kill you, I'll_kill_you, you fucking—_Zack_!"_

_Blood loss got the better of both him and Angeal, and both men slumped, despair crashing over them in painful waves._

_Hojo made a wordless noise of consideration and leant forward, peering through his glasses at the empty table. For the first time since entering the mansion, Genesis cried._

_Then, from the spot where Zack's body had been, a voice yelled, "You crazy _fuck_!"_

_

* * *

_

"…Damn," Sephiroth sighed, staring at the front door. They had been locked out. He didn't know whether Cloud had specifically locked _them_ out or not, but it was annoying either way.

"We'll have to wake Angeal up," Zack said after a moment. He didn't sound too enthused; they still felt bad that Angeal had been up all night for them.

Genesis picked up a tiny pebble and walked along the side of the house until the window to their bedroom was two stories above their heads. He reached back and threw it at the window.

Instead of bouncing off and making a tiny noise that hopefully would have woken Angeal up, Genesis's enhancements made the pebble shatter the window like Cloud had destroyed the sliding shower door earlier.

There was a shout and a tremendously long string of curses from usually-reserved Angeal, and Zack giggled.

Sephiroth listened carefully, making sure Cloud hadn't heard. All he heard was pitiful crying, and he dismissed the sad sounds and concentrated on his lovers.

Angeal's head appeared after the broken window was pushed up suddenly, and he roared, "What the _hell_! You almost gave me a _stroke!_"

Even though he was angry, he was ever-mindful of Cloud's range of hearing, unlike Genesis, who shouted, "Aaaaangie! Good to see you're awake, darling!"

Three voices immediately snapped, _"Genesis!"_

"We are locked out," Sephiroth said calmly. "Come and let us in, if you would."

Alarm flashed over Angeal's stressed-out, masculine features, and he disappeared. He went through the house and unlocked the door quickly, eyes flickering over them to make sure they were alright. Angeal's eyes were red and baggy, and Sephiroth was filled with concern. Nightmare, maybe?

Although he and Angeal weren't quite as affectionate with each other out in the open like they were with Genesis and Zack, Sephiroth leant forward and planted Angeal a charming, brief kiss. He appreciated how Angeal had the sense to stay up while he, the ex-General, had forgotten. Plus, any angst that his friend was feeling was angst he would gladly help shoulder.

Angeal combed his fingers through the silver hairs on the side of Sephiroth's face and kissed back for a minute before gently pulling back and drawing Genesis and Zack into a fierce, protective hug.

"I love it when you two do that," Zack sighed at length. "And we're okay, Angeal. Really." He pecked Angeal on the corner of his mouth, sensing that something was bothering him.

Genesis looked at Angeal searchingly for a moment, then resolved to try to lighten the mood. He tried to get Zack into the mood, but the younger man squirmed away and asked, "He still crying?" Cloud's misfortune made them all horny, apparently.

All were silent, and Cloud's little stuttering cries met their ears. Angeal said seriously, "What did you do to him? He looked awful."

"Tried to lock him in the shower," Zack answered, giggling again. "Me 'n Seph messed with the plumbing earlier, so all he got was hot. Oh! And Gen made it so he couldn't open the door… but he punched through it, so he got out. Little fucker cut up his hand and foot, though." Zack smiled, and Angeal nodded.

"I'm sorry I missed it," Angeal said softly, amused.

"_I _almost drowned him," Genesis bragged, inspecting his nails critically. He caught Angeal's disapproving look and said, "Oh, _relax_! I wasn't going to _kill _him—I _knew_ you'd be like this—ugh, I was just going to, you know, throw him into the woods once he was unconscious."

Angeal smiled despite himself and asked, "Why is he currently destroying our furniture?"

Genesis was silent, blushing slightly and staring out in the direction of the tennis courts. Sephiroth made a faintly amused sound and said, "He kicked Genesis and managed to get away." He continued, at Angeal's alarmed look, "He's fine."

"Yeah," grumbled Genesis, "He just took me by surprise."

Angeal gave Genesis a look that said '_be careful_' and walked back into the house. The blond boy was still crying on the sofa; they could hear that he was calming, somewhat. Angeal smirked—Genesis must've really scared the kid. That was good. After the horrors of Hojo, they wouldn't allow someone else to have the chance to hurt them. He had heard enough of his lovers screaming in pain to last him a lifetime, and probably more.

Cloud gradually calmed down. His frightened crying eventually tapered off to dry sobs that he couldn't control. He sat up on the couch and hugged a throw pillow, bleary blue eyes pointed at the front door.

There was some evil thing in his pool that had tried to kill him.

So what?

He was alive, wasn't he? He was still breathing, and although he was a cut-up, bruised, wet, bleeding mess, that was good enough for him. Cloud stood shakily and wiped his eyes, dropping the pillow. He did his best to eye his back, though he couldn't see much else other than a hint of skinned… skin.

Zack whistled when he saw Cloud's back as he turned around. "Nice one, Gen," he said appreciatively. Genesis thanked him with a bow. Sephiroth and Angeal were upstairs—doing dastardly deeds, most likely.

Cloud sighed at himself and limped to where he had deposited the first-aid kit not an hour before. He began the task of cleaning himself up again, screeching like a banshee when he sprayed the antiseptic on his poor back. He giggled through the pain too, finding his never-ending plights funny, for some reason.

He was a man. He could handle anything this house (or pool) threw at him.

Cloud cleaned up slowly and thoroughly, making sure his aching body was properly taken care of. He then trekked to his bedroom and got dressed, then belatedly remembered he had never turned the water off in his bathroom.

That glass looked _dangerous_. Hell, he could even see a bit of his blood on some shards!

Cloud put his sneakers on and crunched his way over to the water. The room was unbelievably wet and sticky, like being in a jungle (Cloud had never actually been in a jungle, but his bathroom was pretty much what he imagined it would be like). He jammed the knob in, not really expecting the water to turn off. It hadn't worked earlier. Surprisingly, it shut off. Cloud grumbled and slunk back into his bedroom, closing the door to the bathroom and vowing to never open it again. He didn't feel much like sweeping all that up.

He jumped when the doorbell rang.

_Do monsters ring doorbells? _He thought, bewildered. Because really, who would come and visit him?

He made his way to the entrance hall and peeked out the peephole. There was a person standing there—definitely human. He opened the door a bit nervously and smiled at a pretty woman who grinned back, eyes lighting up.

"Uh, hello," Cloud said shyly.

The girl smoothed out her clothes and held out a hand. In the other was a plastic bag full of what looked like cookies. "Hi!" she said, gushing with enthusiasm. "I'm Tifa Lockhart. I heard you moved here, so I came to welcome you!"

Cloud blushed, touched by her kindness. "Thank you," he offered honestly. "I'm Cloud. Uh, Cloud Strife."

Helga and Olga were going to _freak out_. 'Cloud' was every bit as gorgeous as the girls had said he was, and probably then some. He was as cute as a doll and had an adorable personality, from what she could tell so far... which admittedly wasn't much. Still, she just had a feeling.

Tifa stared at him for a moment and said, "I made you cookies. You like peanut butter?"

"I'm allergic to peanuts," Cloud answered automatically. Tifa's expression made him quickly say, "Uh, I mean, I'm allergic to _caramel_! There's none of that in there, is there?"

"No…"

"Oh, good." Cloud beamed and accepted them from her.

"So, uh, welcome to Nibelheim!" Tifa said happily. "Do you like it here?"

"Yeah. It's really…" he paused. "Pretty here."

Tifa giggled. "That it is. Are you going to get a job here, or…?"

Cloud saw his chance. Tifa looked like she knew people… "I'm a delivery boy," he informed her, nodding towards Fenrir, gleaming at the very top of the winding driveway. "Hopefully for the people of Nibelheim soon."

"I'll tell people about you," Tifa assured him. "It's a pain to get stuff places out here."

Cloud was sure to look cute. "Thanks a lot. I appreciate it."

"A 'delivery boy?'" Genesis echoed, peering around Cloud, but being careful not to touch the filth that was _a relative of Hojo's_, "Pfft. _That's_ believable. Hey, it's Tifa!"

Zack bounced up to him. "Haha, it is!"

Tifa was famous for her strength in the small town. Even the four men in the mansion had heard of her. She made amazing cookies, too. Sephiroth had perked up at her voice, and was sneakily eyeing the bag in Cloud's hand.

"You're such a cookie whore," Zack said to Sephiroth, smiling when Sephiroth poked him in the middle of the forehead, hard.

Cloud was explaining how he was Hojo's nephew and got the house, even though he hadn't known Hojo well, when he suddenly went flying forward, tackling Tifa to the ground. He felt an instant rush of pain as he hit and grunted. He blinked then—his left hand was casually resting on Tifa's boob, and _damn_, it was huge! All squishy and big…

Cloud never liked boys more than in that one moment.

No punch came, and the four men who had pushed Cloud realized at the same time Cloud did that the reason for the lack of fistage was because… Tifa was _interested_.

Her brown eyes were heated as she gazed up at Cloud, looking vaguely surprised. Cloud panicked and scrambled off her, helping her up.

"I'm sorry," he babbled. "I tripped—sorry, sorry—uhm, here-" he yanked her up and took a step back, putting distance between them.

Tifa said slowly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "Don't worry about it."

There was an awkward silence on Cloud's part for a minute, and he blurted, "Uh—I'm gonna go… eat lunch… um… thanks for the cookies, and, uh—heh—the introduction."

"Um, sure," Tifa said with wide eyes. "Anytime."

"Bye, and thanks!" Cloud shut the door and scampered away from it, shivering and inwardly panicking. He had molested someone already! What if she told everyone in town about it and everyone thought he was a freak? He'd never get any work!

He made a miserable noise and put the cookies in the kitchen. For a moment he just leaned against the wall, aching and tired. There was still just _so much_ left to do…

He needed to go grocery shopping, first of all. He couldn't live off of old man shit and candy. He sighed wearily, put on his shoes and left the house, making sure he had a key in his pocket.

Shopping in Nibelheim proved to be an adventure. The store clerk recognized him from the previous day and gave him an evil look, but he ignored him. There were three girls talking together by the Inn—one of them was _Tifa_, Cloud noticed with no small amount of dread—and they waved at him. Tifa looked suspicious at first, because he had said that he was going to eat lunch, but she saw the bags of groceries Cloud was stuffing into Fenrir and calmed down. All three girls were squealing and giggling, pointing "discreetly" at him.

When he returned to the mansion, he hauled his purchases into the kitchen and stuffed it all away, shoving Hojo's random crap aside. He had searched high and low in the general store for the good stuff, and had managed to find some ramen, _fresh_ fruit and vegetables, and _soft_, un-moldy bread. He felt rather accomplished.

While they had some peace, Sephiroth and Angeal showed Genesis and Zack what they had done earlier in the day. While most of it was for security purposes, they had some fun as well.

"We got… 'silly,'" Sephiroth had told them in a completely emotionless voice. He didn't get was so funny when Zack and Genesis nearly wet themselves laughing.

"We've turned all the peepholes in the doors," Angeal said briskly, gesturing. "We'll be able to monitor him if he gets up to anything."

There were now makeshift alarms on all entrances to the lab. It was loud, but if Cloud was going to the lab, then they'd kill him right then and there. They couldn't risk it.

The two oldest men wouldn't tell them about their 'silliness.' Angeal had smiled fondly at them, but that was all he was giving away. They'd just have to wait and see.

Sephiroth had slowly been eating Tifa's cookies—they all had. The ex-General had four in his mouth at once when Cloud had almost all of his food put away.

"Chew quieter," Zack had hissed.

Cloud finished putting away his groceries and eyed the bag of cookies on the table. It was a shame he wasn't allowed to eat them—they smelled good.

(If Cloud had been paying attention, he would've noticed that the bag was only half as full as it had been earlier. He also would have seen the crumbs that were falling to the ground out of nowhere.)

Sephiroth tried to not make a mess of himself, but Zack's disgusted expression was making him smile, and smiling with four cookies in your mouth isn't pretty.

Cloud picked up the bag and regretfully tossed them into the trashcan. The air went cold.

Sephiroth, the one who had perfect control over his emotions, was _furious_.

He stomped over to Cloud, who most definitely heard the thundering noises and blinked, looking around. The silver-haired man waited until the boy's face was tilted up, then slapped him across the face with almost all his strength. Cloud was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Eyeing the small trickle of blood that flowed out of Cloud's mouth and onto the floor, Sephiroth grabbed the bag of homemade cookies out of the trash and calmly put one in his mouth, walking away.

"Come," he ordered, chewing. "We have 'ings t'do."

Zack snickered at the pathetic man on the floor and called after the smug ex-General, speaking at a normal volume for once, "Aye aye, Captain."


	6. GHOST!

**Tobi: Ello! The feedback for last chapter was awesome-thank you! Extra big thank you to Superwitch! :] Here's a (somewhat... for some of it) light-hearted chapter to, you know, balance out all that angst of last chapter. Sorta. :D**

**CM: Hey all once again! Thanks for all the reviews! I especially want to thank the reviewers who understand that sometimes authors have to manipulate characters so that they can grow throughout the story. Thank you for bearing with us. Like I said before things will get better but only after they get a little worse. Try to look for the humor in the situation too guys. Enjoy!**

**Ah! IcyHot! Okay. Sorry, to those of you who didn't know what it was. ^^;; "_IcyHot_ is a topical rubefacient heat rub meant for relieving pains such as arthritis, backache, muscle strains, sprains, bruises, and cramps." -cough- you rub this nasty-smelling crap on a sore muscle or whatever and it's icy, to numb, and hot, to soothe. XD or something like that. Kinda burns. :/ (as Cloud has found out.)**

* * *

…It was dark in here, darker than it had been the last time. Perhaps they had decided to stop changing the light bulb after all these years. He didn't blame them.

Sometimes he wondered what had become of everything. There really wasn't any way for him to find out, but he couldn't help but think about it. Because really, what else was there to do, besides sleep?

If he listened, he could hear them: screaming, talking, laughing. Or, he used to be able to.

He didn't hear much of anything.

It was… odd, but he didn't dwell on it. He didn't dare, because if he did, his own situation would become unbearable. If that happened… he'd be screwed, to put it simply. No, it was better if he just… slept.

He closed his eyes and became dead to the world.

* * *

Cloud woke up on the hard, unforgiving kitchen floor. He didn't know how he had gotten down there, and he really didn't care. All he could focus on was the absolute monster of a headache he had. It felt like a knife had been stabbed behind his eyes, and for some reason, his left cheek was throbbing.

He blearily noticed that the kitchen tile was sticky; he obviously hadn't done a very good job cleaning up that soda he had spilled earlier. His good cheek left the floor with a gross noise, and he let out an unintelligible moan of anguish, holding his head as he managed to get off the floor.

His first thought was to get rid of this awful headache, and he stumbled to the first-aid kit in the parlor for the _third_ time, swallowing two ibuprofen he found in there dry. He found he had bit the inside of his cheek pretty badly, but he couldn't really do anything to fix it. He could taste blood, though, and spat in the sink. Cursing how it took time for these things to kick in, he tried to massage his temples as he thought about what happened.

He had been… about to throw something away. Right? But, that was where his memory ended, and Cloud didn't bother continuing to think about it. His head hurt too much.

There was an elegant mirror over an antique desk in a sitting room he passed through, and Cloud stopped to look at himself in it. His hurting cheek was swollen to a monstrous size, taking up a good portion of his face and was a nasty bruise-ish color.

It was exceedingly unattractive.

Cloud gave his beat-up reflection a small smile, somehow finding humor in the situation, and left the sitting room. There were still things to do; he couldn't laze about.

He had to finish unpacking his stuff, get those pictures for Aerith, and he _still_ had to clean out the kitchen of Hojo's shit. God_damn_ it, he didn't want to. He could've stood to sleep for a week… was it really only his second day here? So much had happened in such a short time…

Cloud sighed; every part of his body ached. Wearing comfier clothes sounded like a good idea—the shirt he was currently wearing was a bit too tight, and it kept brushing against his tender back.

Eyes downcast and sleepy, Cloud stumbled upstairs. He robotically changed his shirt, vaguely liking the feel of the new one better. Cloud made sure he had his camera with him, securely on a strap around his wrist.

He was just about to exit his room and finally give Aerith what he had promised her when the wind… picked up, or something. Because really, what else would have caused the door to swing shut suddenly?

The pretty, stained wood's movement took Cloud by surprise, and he didn't have time to hold out his hands and protect himself. The door smashed into his nose and sent him stumbling backwards. Nose injuries always hurt like a _bitch_, he knew, and he let out a heartfelt, "Motherfucking _shit_!"

He clenched his eyes shut and felt a few tears squeeze themselves out of his eyes. He just lay there, even though he could feel the blood dribbling down his face and onto his clothes.

In the hallway, the Invisibles (as Zack had dubbed them) were in stitches.

"He was asking for that one," Angeal managed, chuckling merrily.

In the bedroom, Cloud staggered to his feet. If he focused on the white-hot pain that seemed to come from inside his face itself, it didn't seem as bad. He could handle it. He panted shallowly for a minute, trying to cup the pool of blood in his hand.

He had to sacrifice his shirt (but it wasn't like it wasn't already ruined) to stop the bleeding, but that was okay with him. His nose still hurt, but it wasn't broken, as far as he could tell. Good.

Cloud cleaned himself up the best he could without venturing into the bathroom-of-horrors, and yet again, he changed into new clothes. He took the crusting, gummy, bloody outfit with him as he left, arms straight out in front of him to prevent another freak door-attack.

He made it to the fancy washing machine and dryer on the first floor with little difficulty, and put the soiled clothes in the washer, intending to do them later.

Cloud padded up to the second floor again after that. He had forgotten his camera in his bedroom and darted up to get it, then did an awkward I've-gotta-shit-_now_-dance to a bathroom he had never been in before. (It was so handy how there were so many—regardless of his unfortunate experiences here, he _loved_ this mansion.) He cleaned his face of dried blood with a damp washcloth and sat on the toilet, intending to conduct some business.

…His butt was burning.

That was enough to make him freak out in and of itself. But he smelled something sort of… minty. He stood and peered into the toilet, wrinkling his nose at the obvious nastiness, but looking for the cause of the incessant burn on his poor cheeks that was steadily getting worse and more intense.

On the toilet seat, there was… something. Sticking out a finger and running it along a small portion of the toilet seat, he was surprised to come away with gross, clearish goo on it. He sniffed it and paled.

"Icy Hot?" Cloud gasped, dumbfounded. He fidgeted, ass on fire. It definitely smelled like the stuff… but something else, too. Some sort of chemical. A _bad_ one.

Wasn't IcyHot, like, poisonous if you used too much of it? And why the hell did it hurt this much? It wasn't this horrible burning sensation—though, he probably could blame the extra burning on whatever that _other _stuff was. Cloud panicked, from that thought and from the severely uncomfortable feeling on his bum. He hastily reached for the toilet paper, wiping the gunk away (Cloud made sure to actually _wipe his ass_ too; he was a hygienic person and wouldn't put something like that off, even in a situation like this).

Cloud realized too late that the toilet paper was covered in the shit, too.

Cloud looked on in horror as the toilet paper unraveled itself from his frantic movements. He clapped his hands over his butt and let out a high-pitched noise of distress. The sink was too small for him to get his ass in there and wash it off, and this bathroom didn't have a tub or shower…

"What did you do in there?" Zack asked, still not knowing what Sephiroth and Angeal had done earlier.

"Patience, Puppy," Angeal answered, giving him a warm smile.

"Is it evil?" Genesis mocked, but still looked intrigued. "Will it kill him? I'm sick of this boy being in our house."

The mood darkened instantly. Angeal gave a slow nod, then glanced at the door. There was an awful lot of noise coming from in there.

Holding up three fingers, Sephiroth began a countdown. When he lowered the first finger, Cloud started stomping around. After the second went down, he made a howling noise and grasped the doorknob, wiggling it.

Sephiroth put down his third finger, and Cloud burst out of the bathroom with a yell. He was naked from the waist down and was trying to get his pants off one of his ankles at the same time. He stumbled twice, managed to get them off and bolted for the staircase, cupping his goods with his hand as he ran.

Genesis and Zack had no idea what was going on, but they laughed with the other two men anyway. There was a shriek as Cloud tumbled down the stairs, and they grinned—partly out of amusement, and partly because, well, Hojo's successor was in pain.

Cloud picked himself up off of the floor, scrambling to the kitchen. He skidded in and leapt onto the counter, balancing on the edge and poking his rump out. He turned the water on and grabbed the spray-hose thing, and let out a sigh of relief as the water cooled his burning bottom.

As he cleaned himself, he wondered why Hojo was such a freak. Who the hell kept Icy Hot on their toilet seats? Did the old man _like_ his junk to be fried or something? This mansion just got weirder and weirder.

When he deemed himself clean, he gingerly got down and grabbed a hand towel from a drawer. He dried himself off with a hand towel, giggling a little at how gross this was.

Cloud took a deep, calming breath after that. He wished things would slow down… he doubted he'd ever had two days as busy as this day and the previous one.

It should have been fine, walking around so indecently—it was his home, after all. There wasn't anyone else in there with him. He couldn't help but feel shy as he trekked upstairs to retrieve his pants, though. He put them on quietly, flushed the toilet in the bathroom and thought about what to do as he washed his hands.

…Aerith still needed those pictures. He sighed, not really feeling motivated to go get them for her. His camera was in the middle of the hallway, having been dropped for the second time earlier. He checked to see if it worked; it did.

He put his back to the front door downstairs and tried to take a picture of the entrance hall. The camera dropped out of his hands and hit the floor when he was just about to snap a picture. Not having the energy to get all suspicious, Cloud sighed apathetically as he bent to see if it was okay; it wasn't, this time. There was a huge crack in the screen.

Cloud didn't cry this time. He left the broken thing on the marble floor and eyed the cardboard boxes neatly stacked to the side of the room. He smiled and made his way towards them. Time to unpack.

He had been in the library before, but he hadn't really stopped to look around. Cloud took his time and studied the tall shelves, packed to the ceiling with books. Most looked thick, too thick to be for one's reading enjoyment. Hojo certainly had that "mad scientist" look—those were probably all books about how to torture people and pickle their reproductive organs. Cloud shivered and set the box he had lugged into the room on the table.

Inside were his books from Midgar. He was an avid reader, so the box was kind of heavy, and he stretched briefly before taking one and pulling it out.

The library was kind of intimidating. It was freakishly silent, and the still elegance of the room somehow made it even less inviting. Cloud frowned and searched for a place to put his books, finding a mostly-empty shelf. He shoved Hojo's scary books aside and placed his in, smiling widely when he was all done.

Cloud glanced around, not exactly liking the darkened shadows of the room but finding it rather exciting now. His eyes widened; there, straight out of a movie, was one of those special rolling library ladders.

He climbed up it without much thought, eyeing the books at the very top of the shelves.

He expected something like _Being Creepy for Dummies_, or _Weird Decorating: Old Man Style. _Instead, there was a bright green book whose spine read, _Disco: the Rise and Fall of a Dance Generation_.

Cloud gave a short laugh and shook his head. He was about to get down, but the ladder tilted. He obviously hadn't been careful enough up there… One of the legs was completely off the ground, and he was gonna _fall—! _Cloud gave an alarmed gasp and clutched on tight to the ladder.

The ladder tipped sideways, and Cloud shrieked as it fell over. It wasn't a terribly long way down, but it was enough to hurt him.

His head hit one of the shelves, and he busted his lip open. He hit the carpet hard, and the ladder fell on top of him.

Cloud was quiet, then let out a shaky sob as he raised trembling fingers to his split lip. Zack chuckled and tipped a book out of its place on the shelf, giggling when it struck the fallen blond in the head.

His headache had returned tenfold, if that was possible. It hadn't even been fully eradicated when he had entered the library. Cloud picked himself off the floor and stumbled out of the library. This house was a death trap, and he couldn't leave, thanks to Tseng.

Like a zombie, Cloud went through everything in the kitchen. It would have been an enjoyable experience, had he been in a better mood, but he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the weird bags of gummy worms he found, nor properly crack up at the sight of the old milk, chucky and practically alive.

He hadn't even been surprised when he somehow spilled the half-alive old-milk monster on him. He just sighed and trudged upstairs for a shower, lamenting the appearance of his poor, beat-up body. His lip was a mess, his cheek was discolored, his skin was burned pink, his back was scraped up, he had wounds in his hand and foot, his butt still burned a little, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he had a lump the size of an orange on the back of his head. _Peachy._

He stumbled to a yet-unused, clean, safe bathroom and stood under the water, thankful that nothing was going wrong this time.

He was _tired_.

While Cloud was in the bedroom, the Invisibles used the opportunity to eat some dinner.

"Can you refrain from calling us 'Invisibles,' Zackary?" Sephiroth asked, eating his microwave-spaghetti with grace, not getting any sauce on his chin, unlike Zack.

"No," Zack answered bluntly, eating voraciously.

They ate quickly, trying to be as quiet as they could. They had to eat, after all, but they couldn't exactly do it right in front of Cloud. Most likely, they'd end up tied down in the labs, drugged up and on Mako with one of them dead before they could blink.

The food was disgusting, and they longed to be alone and have enough time to prepare a _real _meal. Not eating while listening for noises would be a plus, too.

"We did good today," Zack said, smiling.

"I agree," Angeal sighed, draining his glass of water in about four seconds.

When finished eating, they did the dishes at top speed, washing, drying and putting away everything so that Cloud wouldn't be able to tell that anything had been touched.

A wet, clean Cloud appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, and three Invisibles smiled; the blond had _no clue_.

Zack, who still had a fork in his hand, whirled around and stared at Cloud with wide eyes. Not knowing what else to do with it, Zack hid the fork behind his back. He remembered too late that he was invisible.

Cloud stared at the floating fork for a long moment. Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal immediately noticed what was going on and tensed, preparing for Cloud to _finally _do something. Sephiroth inched forward, preparing to kill the blond in one blow if he made _one little step _towards Zackary.

Instead, Cloud's blue eyes turned huge and disbelieving as he bellowed, "_GHOST!"_ He turned around and sprinted out of the room, looking genuinely terrified.

The four men watched him go, severely confused. Angeal's mouth was hanging open.

"…What just happened?" Zack said slowly, putting the fork on the counter.

Sephiroth was frowning deeply, eyes squinted in concentration. He said, just as slowly, "...I think I know how to explain our guest's behavior."

Genesis tilted his head and said desperately, "_please_ explain, Seph."

The ex-General bit his lip, an unconscious gesture of uncertainty. "...I believe he does not know that we escaped the laboratory." Before anyone else could interrupt, he continued, "His actions so far do not add up. I would say that he would be unaware that we exist, but was handling had Mako earlier today." He glanced at Zack. "He thought Zackary was a "ghost." The only explanation is that he thinks we are still in the labs and do not pose the slightest threat to him, and that there is a genuine ghost in the house. Our actions would be self-explanatory to Hojo."

"So…" Zack thought. "He's afraid of ghosts? And thinks that we're ghosts?" He smiled slowly.

"So it would seem."

"What," Genesis breathed, "… an _idiot_."

Angeal shrugged, clearly deciding to take what he could get. Zack frowned and hoisted himself up on the counter, saying after a pause, "…he's one _dumb blonde scientist_."

Cloud was huddled in his bedroom, scared out of his wits. _Hehadseenit_—proof that he wasn't going crazy—that there actually _were_ ghosts in his house! How the hell else did a fork float?

He wondered if it was a nice ghost, like Casper. He doubted it. Maybe… the thing with the shower and the tripping down the stairs and the ladder and the burning sponges had been the work of a _ghost_!

Having always been terrified of anything supernatural, Cloud was freaking _out_. However, there was some sort of giddy excitement that he couldn't shake away. He wanted to go confront that thing, figure out its secrets and tell the whole world! …Not really; he'd much rather get it the hell out of his house and live in peace.

For an indefinable amount of time, Cloud stayed in his bedroom. To say he was paranoid was an understatement—he sat with his head in his hands, back against the door in an effort to keep it closed, and sniffled into his palms.

Why did all the crazy shit have to happen to _him_?

There wasn't any noise for a while, and Cloud began to doubt himself. …Was he imagining all of this? Maybe he was in a crazy home somewhere, strapped down and dreaming all this up while on happy drugs? He didn't know—he didn't _care_—his brain hurt, his body hurt, and he was tired. Developing a cold too, if his sore throat told him anything.

He must have fallen asleep in that position eventually, because all of a sudden it was dark in his room, and there was noise coming from downstairs. His first thought was _burglars! _instead of _ghost!_ but then he remembered his strange position and wasn't sure what to think. He was scared, of course he was, but he cautiously opened the doors and peeked outside. He was pretty tough; he could probably take on a burglar and win. He had punched the daylights out of a glass wall, hadn't he?

Cloud cautiously left his bedroom. He had been expecting his door to fly open and to be killed by something, but nothing happened. He tiptoed downstairs, blue eyes wide in the dark and swiveling in their sockets, unable to see much of anything.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw a sight that made him pause for a moment, then made him unbelievably angry.

Some fucking _moron _was in his house. Under a sheet. Pretending to be a ghost. It was like a cheesy Halloween costume. Cloud was more angry that they had broken into his house than that they were imitating his worst fear. It was probably some punk native of Nibelheim here to try to scare away the "city boy." His _burglar_ thought hadn't been that far from the truth, sort of.

Cloud was pissed.

He stomped his way over to the man—it was a man, he decided; they were tall, and their profile looked a bit too… well, masculine to be female. They turned to face him and waved their arms around, saying nothing.

"Who the fuck are _you_?" Cloud spat, brows furrowed. He knew he couldn't have been that menacing, with his destroyed and beat-up face, but he didn't care. Now that he looked closer… there weren't little eye-holes for them to see him, so it was okay.

No answer.

Cloud 'tsked' and reached out, unceremoniously ripping the sheet off the man and preparing to sink a fist into his gut.

There was nothing under the sheet.

Cloud's mouth fell open. He glanced at his hand, at the limp piece of cloth. His eyes flickered forward, only seeing the far wall opposite him. He took a shaky step back and dropped the sheet.

He screamed at the top of his lungs, high enough to rival an opera singer's voice, and bolted. He ran all the way to his bedroom and slammed the door shut, sticking a chair under the door so that no one could get in. He dove under the covers and curled them tightly around himself, not letting an ounce of light in.

Downstairs, all four Invisibles were dying. Genesis was bent over on the floor, laughing so hard he was hiccuping. Angeal was in a similar state, but inhaled so much air weirdly he gave a monstrous burp. Genesis hiccuped some more at that and crumpled, lying on the floor as he laughed and panted raggedly. He had felt like an idiot under that sheet, but Zack felt like a genius as he laughed hard, clinging to a chuckling Sephiroth.

"Gaia," Zack giggled, "This is _great_."

Cloud was an afraid wreck that night. He itched to call Aerith, but she'd think he was crazy and wouldn't be any help. He suffered in silence, blue eyes wide and fixed on the door. He was tired enough to drop dead, but he forced himself to stay awake and watch out for himself.

But he must have fallen asleep eventually, because when he woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror, he screamed.

It was _so cliché_. But that was probably the point, because everyone immediately would have known what it meant.

Scribbled backwards on his forehead, so that when he looked in the mirror he could read it, were the words: SEVEN DAYS.


	7. Monkey in the Middle

**Tobi: Wow, hi everyone! You guys freaking **_**rock**_**.** **Props go to SarissiaDiablo for being IM's 300th reviewer. The 350th was the anonymous reviewer Fuzzy. Thanks a lot, SD and Fuzzy! :)** **Thanks again for all the kickass support, everyone! :D  
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**CM: You readers never cease to amaze me! We got 75 reviews! And I'm sure there are people who read and don't review! (psst you guys should review! We love feed back!) Tobi and I have some fun stuff coming up in a couple chapters. I'm sure everyone will enjoy it. And I want to thank SephFan for her AMAZING fan art! THANK YOU! If others want to draw us fan art we would be extremely flattered! Please let us know! Thanks guys! Enjoy!  
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**Warning! CloudedMirror and Tobi do not recommend that anyone attempt any of the pranks, tricks and attacks in the previous chapters, this chapter or future chapters. Everything has been performed by trained, Invisible SOLDIER professionals and a not so professional Marshmallow. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.**

* * *

Seven days left to live.

Horrified, Cloud examined his reflection in the mirror over his dresser. He would willingly admit he looked awful—his cheek was still swollen and hardly any better. His shower-burn had mostly faded though, so he didn't look like a blushing cherry anymore, which was good.

His forehead bothered him the most. 'SEVEN DAYS' had been written there during some point of the night. The thing was backwards, so that when he looked into the mirror, he could read it perfectly.

Seven days. _Seven days. _Did this mean something very, very bad was going to happen to him in a week? Did this mean he could escape and be okay or would this… _whatever_… still affect him? He didn't wanna die—he was going to _leave_!

Halfway to the bedroom door, Cloud stopped. Leaving Nibelheim wasn't an option, he remembered belatedly. If he was gone for too long, Tseng would know what was up. No matter what happened, he did _not_ want that man on his back. He was scary, probably was connected to a crapload of people who would willingly beat a good-looking blond up, and it didn't help that Tseng could make him foot the cost of this whole estate. He'd rather get molested and fucked by ghosts than have to pay all that off by himself. It would kill him.

…But would staying here kill him first? There was, without a doubt, something in his house. What if it was some wronged, homicidal old man who hadn't passed on and Cloud reminded him of his killer? What if he was intruding on the place where some bitter wife's husband had beaten her to death?

Similar thoughts chased themselves around his brain. It began sinking in that he was _well_ over his head here. Something had actually _written _on his forehead!

Cloud pouted—this was _his mansion _now! He couldn't just sit here and let an evil, scary being that he couldn't see walk all over him. …Right?

Cloud wearily sat on his bed and tried to think. Out of all the crazy things that had happened to him, did any of them make sense when you explained them using an explanation that totally _didn't _make sense?

The shower.

The water had been hot only. He didn't see how that could have been the work of a ghost unless it was smart enough to screw with the plumbing. He hoped not.

But the door wouldn't open. That didn't make any sense—it was a sliding door; it should have opened all the time, no matter what. There wasn't a lock or anything to keep it in place.

Cloud paled. It didn't make any sense, but it made _complete_ sense!

And that meant… Cloud had to clap a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't throw up. The previous night's sheet incident came back into his mind's eye with terrible, perfect clarity. How could he have been so stupid? He had thought it was some wise-ass who had broken in!

Cloud curled up on his bed in misery.

Really, who could he call? Aerith? Cid? Yuffie?

Ghostbusters?

Aerith would giggle herself to death. Cid would cuss him out and advise he check himself in to the nearest mental institution. Yuffie would tease him forever.

The only possible person he could think of calling was Rufus. Rufus Shin-Ra was the brattiest man on the planet, and he'd probably put the phone down on his desk while Cloud freaked out so he wouldn't have to listen to him. He could probably pretend that Rufus cared and was listening if he tried.

That idea was shot down too. Rufus was greedy—if Cloud told him that he was inhabiting a Shin-Ra mansion, the other blond would probably steal it back somehow. That thought almost made him dial him up. The house and its supernatural problems would be gone. No more Tseng to deal with.

But then Cloud paused. Where would he live if that happened? Behind a dumpster? No—it was better that Rufus was kept uninformed, for now.

Still, Cloud wished he could talk to him. His cousin (Rufus was more like a half-cousin by marriage thrice removed only half the time's uncle, or something totally crazy like that) was richer than sin, but he was fun. They had been closer as children, but President Shin-Ra had started teaching Rufus how to better be the perfect little Vice-President at an absurdly easy age, and they had rarely seen each other after that.

His parents had worked for Shin-Ra, which was why he had grown up in Midgar, and above the plate, too. But they were dead, and he had only enough money to move below the plate into a _relatively _clean sector, in a _relatively _clean apartment.

Cloud wondered if Rufus knew Hojo was dead. He could only assume that Hojo had only gotten a job working for Shin-Ra because he was related to the President, albeit very distantly.

At the family reunions, he and Rufus had always secretly made fun of the slimy old creep, making sure that the slightly older boy didn't look like he was enjoying himself _too _much or mingled with the poorer attendees _too _much. Rufus was a bitch, true, but for some reason, the two had always been pretty close. Rufus had been his first kiss actually—first sort of 'sexual experience' too. They had jerked each other off in the bathroom of some random Shin-Ra apartment, fourteen years old and itching to get away from that year's boring family reunion.

Cloud smiled at the memory. Yeah, he'd call Rufus sooner or later, but he'd at least _try_ to not let on that he was where he was.

He had wanted to work for Shin-Ra too, once upon a time. SOLDIER had been his dream. He still remembered General Sephiroth—his hero. He had read about him in the papers, and even though Cloud had never seen a picture of him, he loved such a kind man anyway. He had saved countless people here by being a fighter abroad—he had wanted to be just like him.

Sephiroth, three other SOLDIERs and some high-ranking Turk had disappeared a few years back, though. There had been an uproar, and Cloud had spent months praying for his hero's safety, but nothing had ever came up. One day he had just accepted that Sephiroth was dead, and that had been the end of that, though he still felt the pain of a crushed dream every time he went past the Shin-Ra building.

Because his parents had just died, Cloud had failed the psych test that enabled him to enter the Cadet program (which was pretty damn hard to do, he knew. He was such a failure). He had taken the blow hard, but Rufus hadn't said anything harsh to him, thankfully. He had taken him shopping, if he remembered correctly.

There was a loud creak from out in the hallway. Cloud instantly was up and alert. While he had been thinking, he could have been killed or worse!

Cloud clawed at his hair, eyes desperate. …What was he supposed to do now?

For the third time, Zack drawled, "…Aaaaare ya _sure_, Seph?"

For the third time, Sephiroth answered, "About eighty-five percent, Zackary."

Zack didn't act like he had heard. The 'Puppy' bit his lip, sent Angeal a worried look and repeated, "Are you _sure_, though?"

Sephiroth didn't bother answering. All four were seated in Genesis's favorite reading spot, a small room near the home theater that was chock full of comfy chairs and a couch or three.

It was silent for a moment, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere that you could hear in practically every part of the house.

They were in a unique situation. Sephiroth was eighty-five percent sure that Cloud was a blond bimbo who was prepared to experiment on them, had they been in the labs, but who had no idea they were out and about. He thought that all the 'weird mishaps' that kept occurring in his new house were caused by ghosts, or some other silly nonsense.

There was a fifteen percent chance that Cloud was far smarter than any of them had guessed, and that he was completely playing them. If they were wrong about this, then they could end up back in Mako before they knew it.

Did they take the cautious route, or did they spring into action? A lot of _bad_ things could happen if they messed up. Their plan wasn't even that much of a plan—they just had to scare the shit out of Cloud and hope he left the house. They couldn't actually _kill _him at this point; Cloud hadn't tried to harm them yet and wouldn't, as long as he thought they were in the labs (there was an eighty-five percent chance of that, however).

Zack entertained a brief thought of Cloud being innocent, and his failure to realize they were what they were was because he had no idea that he wasn't alone in the mansion.

…Nah. He had been handling Mako the previous day. That meant that he was definitely a 'scientist' (_madman_) and not some random civilian who was related to Hojo somehow. And like Sephiroth had once said—Hojo wouldn't have left Cloud the mansion in his will if he _wasn't _interested in continuing the family 'practice.'

This kid could've done damage if he hadn't been a complete and total idiot. _He _thought the signs were pretty obvious, but if the kid didn't understand, Zack wasn't going to complain.

And really… this kid _was _pretty dumb. This _thing_, the ridiculous week thing, had been cooked up by Genesis. He had seen a movie or something and had explained how bad they could mess with their residing intruder. It was humorous and a bit unbelievable at first, but Genesis was persuasive, and the other three quickly broke down and agreed with him.

It was pretty funny, actually. The look on Cloud's face had been priceless and had filled them all with some sort of evil glee, as mean as that sounded. But, it wasn't like the kid didn't deserve it.

They could have some fun too, couldn't they?

* * *

…He was hungry.

_No, _he was _starving._

The last time he had eaten had been, what? Yesterday afternoon? And what had he eaten? Barely anything. Cloud's stomach growled for the umpteenth time and he made a sad noise, grabbing Sebastian. It was probably lunchtime, maybe a little later. He had stayed in his room, scared and afraid for what felt like weeks.

_Man up, Strife._

He had to step up and brave the thing if he wanted to survive. It hit Cloud like a fist to the gut to realize that he had to _survive_. This wasn't a small group of guys playing a big elaborate joke on him—this was the _real deal_.

Pink lips turned down in a tight frown, and yellow brows drew together. He clutched Sebastian's leg in one hand and turned the doorknob, pushing his door open about a centimeter. But rather than opening the door all the way using a normal method, Cloud lifted a leg up and kicked that motherfucker so hard it bounced back and almost hit him in the face after it crashed into the wall.

He pushed it open with his hand and bravely strutted out into the hallway, realizing a bit too late that he had just made a _loud_ sound. A sound that had definitely been heard by anyone—any_thing_—in the house.

Cloud's bravado promptly evaporated, and he squeezed Sebastian in fright. The poor thing would have been screeching at the cruel action, had it been a real chocobo. But it wasn't, and all was eerily silent as Cloud unknowingly started to gouge Sebastian's eyes out.

What did he do now?

Not wanting to go back inside his room, Cloud left the door open (for a speedy, obstacle-free escape route, if the need for one arose) and stood on tiptoes, trying to be quiet.

Cloud made it downstairs without too much trouble. It felt strangely like the previous night, to be perfectly honest. Cloud was cautious for that reason and studied every shadow before he passed it, peeked around every corner before darting down a hallway.

The kitchen was creepy, to put it lightly. Now that he knew that he _wasn't alone_, he kept eyeing the knife rack on the counter. …Stuff like that happened all the time in scary movies, right? Common things turned into instruments of pure evil when wielded by a ghostly being of awfulness?

That thought made Cloud more than a little nervous. He opened a cabinet, cringing and looking around wildly when it squeaked loudly. He blindly shoved food in his mouth. He didn't care what he ate—he just needed his energy.

He shivered suddenly, and every nerve went on high alert. If he was to make a wild guess… he'd say his ghost had just entered the kitchen.

Cloud swallowed so much food it hurt on the way down and turned slowly. Everything looked the same, but he wasn't fooled. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He dug his nails into Sebastian's softness and stood rigidly, eyes narrowed.

About ten feet off to the left, Zack rapped his knuckles once against the shiny, metal refrigerator. The noise was pretty loud in the tense silence, and Cloud's head snapped over to him. The Puppy fought hard not to laugh.

Hojo's relative surprised them, then. Pure hatred directed towards the 'something' that was haunting him flashed in the blond's unnaturally blue eyes for a moment, and he flashed a disgusted look at the kitchen in general. He lifted his head up and calmly exited the room, leaving an open loaf of bread and a handful of cheez-its on the counter. It seemed like he was…ignoring them. Cloud's little tough-guy act was ruined by how tightly he was holding onto his toy in fright, but at least some credit had to be given to the kid.

Appalled by his own audacity (putting his back to the enemy like that!), Cloud took a few deep breaths when he entered the entrance hall. He had just stood up to the thing a little, even though it wasn't much.

It was a good feeling.

But what did he do now, he wondered? Wage unending war against the ghost until he scared it shitless enough that it left? …Nah. Go back to sleep? …Nah. Leave the house and chill somewhere else—somewhere safe? …Nah, 'cause if he left, he knew he'd return to a house trashed or burned to the ground. Dammit.

He glanced at the library. Surely there was something in there that could help him? As long as he stayed off of those ladders and avoided deathly sharp or heavy objects, he'd be fine. Cloud took a step towards the room, but stopped short and glanced down.

…He didn't need Sebastian. He—an adult—was able to function by himself without a toy used to comfort children. Cloud gently propped Sebastian against the very first step of one of the main staircases and entered the library without looking back.

The library was, once again, quite intimidating. Cloud didn't let it bother him too much though, and put on a brave face. He was looking for something that could help him get _rid_ of ghosts, now that he pretty much knew that he was fucked. Maybe he'd find something all about exorcising—that would be handy. Or maybe about wafting scented smoke around and chanting in some weird language.

What he ended up finding was a whole lot of _crap_. There were more crazy weird books about the eighties hiding in that place. He didn't quite know what to think about that. Biology textbooks were even more all over the place than he had thought yesterday. Hojo had _really _been into science… the creep.

Cloud wandered around a big bookcase, found some colorful books at the bottom, and found that they were more normal novels, as well as a few romancey things. He grabbed a bunch without really looking at them—reading material was reading material, after all! (Though textbooks were _not_, Cloud vehemently swore.)

He crouched and pulled a couple more off the shelf. He turned one over and scoffed at the title—_The Billionaire's Mistress_—and reached for another. There was a tiny _chink_! noise, and Cloud glanced down, confused.

Lying on the carpet was a tarnished key. He picked it up and ran his finger over it. …What was it doing inside a romance novel, of all things? He didn't dwell on it for too long, though, and shoved it in his pocket for safekeeping.

He was about to leave, but one ungodly thick book on a shelf on the other side of the room caught his eye. He couldn't tell why, but he felt like he had to at least _look_ at it. Cloud placed his findings on a table and moseyed over to the new book, peering at the title when he pulled it off the shelf.

_Mako. _That was the title? 'Mako?' Cloud was doubtful, but flipped it open. Words like 'reaction' and 'unexplained' and 'side-effect' caught his eye. Cloud considered, lips twitching up in a smile. A Sci-Fi book? Good enough—maybe he had found something interesting!

He trotted out of the library happily, pleased that he had at least found _something_. Did Nibelheim have a library? He'd have to check it out. Strolling into the entrance hall again, Cloud admired the shiny tile beneath his feet. The milky white was pretty.

He had meant to drop the books off in his bedroom, but when he lifted his gaze to make sure he didn't trip on the stairs, he froze and almost dropped everything.

Sebastian was floating.

The chocobo was hovering in the air about ten feet away from the spot where he had placed him earlier. Cloud's mouth fell open and he turned, fully facing his best friend from early childhood on.

"Sebastian?" Cloud croaked stupidly, brain not functioning correctly. "You can fly? Since when?"

Zack instantly started giggling, but Cloud wasn't enhanced, so he didn't hear.

"Gaia," Zack chuckled, wiping his eyes and looking at Angeal, who was holding Sebastian above his head, "He's so fucking stupid." Genesis readily agreed.

Cloud paused for a moment, and then realized what was going on. He tried yelling, first. "Put him down!" The blond screeched, gripping his small stack of books tightly, "Right _now_!"

Sebastian drifted up and down a few times. He was being taunted. Anger flared in him, and Cloud took a few rapid steps forward. Sebastian went soaring over his head and stopped about twenty feet behind him, still floating. Cloud turned quickly and advanced, but his chocobo went flying back to the original spot.

It was like monkey-in-the-middle from hell.

Panicking, Cloud's head whipped back and forth. Were there _two _ghosts, or was one splitting itself in half or something? Was it teleporting? He didn't know what it was capable of!

Sebastian flew again, out of his reach, and Cloud became _beyond _angry. …How _dare _this thing take his fucking stuff! He'd _kill it!_

Cloud hurled three books at Sebastian once he came to a stop where one of the 'throwers' would have been had they been elementary kids out on a playground. With luck, he'd strike the ghost unconscious (could that even happen?) and he'd be able to split.

The books threw themselves back.

Cloud ducked wildly, but one hit him on the back of the head, and he saw stars for a moment. He gasped, dropping the rest of his books and clutching his skull.

Sephiroth frowned for a moment. What they were doing—teasing and hurting and humiliating a defenseless being at a severe disadvantage—harshly reminded him of old times as a child, growing up in the labs. An odd emotion rose in his chest; he almost felt sorry for the boy. He shook it off, though, catching a smirking Angeal's next toss and waiting until Cloud started for him with wide, desperate, horrified eyes before throwing the toy back.

Cloud had a plan, this time (sort-of). He charged at the spot where Sebastian was going to land while he was still in the air with everything he had, prepared to beat the living (or _unliving_) shit out of something that would _dare_ to humiliate him in his own home, touch his things and try to ruin his life.

Angeal's reflexes were exceptional, thanks to Mako (and even more so because of Hojo's own twisted formula), but his gaze had been focused up, on the chocobo, and Cloud had made a sudden, drastic move. Cloud launched himself at him, and had he been a lesser man he would have been overwhelmed. As it was, he shifted his weight in time to give Cloud a harsh shove, and the boy bounced back, falling down with a crash and a shout.

Cloud's fist had knocked the toy out of his hand, though, and even though the kid was obviously in pain and reeling from shock, still only half-digesting the situation, he scrambled forward, claimed his prize and took off up a staircase like he was running from an enraged bull. He stopped for about a second to scoop up some of the books he had missed earlier, deserting the others in his haste to get away.

"Are you alright?" Genesis asked, rushing forward from his place at the sidelines to check out Angeal.

Angeal rolled his eyes and nodded. Cloud was extremely slight and little—he could tell from that little collision—so of _course_ he was all right. He was SOLDIER.

The four men listened to the pounding footsteps from upstairs and the slam of a door. Zack grinned slowly and said, "That scared him some, don't you think?"

Cloud jammed a chair against the doorknob and barricaded the bathroom door too, just to be safe. He had _felt_ his ghost—something _very_, very hard and _very_, very solid, not plain air like he had thought. That was good—he could fight it! Make it hurt, bash its face in!

He glanced at Sebastian, the fruit of his struggles. He could beat this thing. He just needed some…resourcefulness. And a hell of a lot of elbow grease, blood, sweat and tears.

There had to be a weapon of some sort in the house, right? He'd find something… and he'd make his supernatural harassers _pay_.

Even though it was only about three o'clock in the afternoon, Cloud stayed in his room plotting for the rest of the day and night.


	8. Like a Virgin

**Tobi: Thank you everyone! We got such great reviews last chapter. Give it up for RedDummie! -claps- they were the 400th reviewer! Give them a hand! -claps some more- I hope you all like this chapter; I especially enjoyed writing this one.**

**CM: Wow guys you all rock! Our feedback was great! I'm gonna dedicate chapter 10 to you all! I know you will love it. In this chap...(_ _)" poor Cloudy -snickers- but be patient guys. Things will get good real soon. :D CLOUD Hwaiting!**

* * *

Six days left to live.

It hadn't been intentional, but he had fallen asleep. Only for about an hour, judging by his clock, but it was long enough for the damage to be done.

With shaking fingers, Cloud touched his forehead. The word 'SEVEN' had been crossed out, and the number '6' had been scribbled onto his skin. His doors were still barricaded; how had this happened? His ghost was solid, right? Tangible. He had bounced off it. Then how…?

Fear slid through his veins like ice. He shivered and wrapped himself in his quilt, closing his eyes and going boneless. Was it even worth _trying_ to fight this thing? It was obvious that he was fighting an uphill battle. Who was _he? _A little blond from Midgar, attempting to beat a ghost in its territory. It was suicide.

_Stop being a pussy_!

Aware that he had given himself an eerily similar pep talk yesterday, Cloud frowned and stood. Even though he was scared… and even though he didn't really know what he was doing, he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

He was determined, this time. His thinking the previous night had been a lot of _'yeah, and then I'll _kill _it!' _and other half-asleep nonsense, but he had constructed a plan, of sorts. There were knives in the kitchen. Paperweights in the lounge, as well as those fire-stoking things, which were pretty damn sharp.

He could use the things in the mansion to his advantage. He wasn't defenseless.

Once again terribly like yesterday, Cloud felt a rush of bravery flow through his veins. He got dressed slowly, brain eerily blank, and left the room. He didn't go kicking down the door or anything crazy—he was a calm, collected man. A man who wouldn't take anything lying down!

He left Sebastian on the bed.

The mansion was silent as Cloud made his way through it. His bare toes dug into the carpet of the hallway, and he inwardly mused about how soft it was. Better than the crappy one back in Midgar—this was just another reason why he had to stay in Nibelheim. He didn't have a job yet, and he only really had one sort-of friend-slash-admirer, but he had felt, before any of this ghost stuff happened, that he was at peace. It was nice here. It was where he needed to be; he knew it deep down. Like maybe his purpose was to get rid of this ghost or something, or maybe it was his destiny to restore his family's honor in Nibelheim. He didn't know.

He descended on of the staircases, but stopped short with a good twelve steps left. He remembered dropping his books the previous night—he had only a couple sitting in his room. The ones he hadn't managed to rescue were gone. The steps were completely clear.

Cloud swallowed. His 'roommate' wasn't trying to hide itself anymore. It could _move things_. Could steal Sebastian. Could try to kill him.

He felt dizzy. Cloud sat on a step and leant his head against the banister, taking a deep breath. …He was scared; of course he was. He was so out of his league here it wasn't even funny.

Cloud stood. He was scared, yes… but he wasn't defeated. He trotted down the stairs and stood at the bottom, glancing back up. It felt like he had done a lot more than get from his second floor to his first.

He knew he was unbearably tense. What he needed was a comfortable, quiet room where he could think. The ideal place was found in a pretty short time—it had a relaxed atmosphere, a divine-looking couch, and a fireplace.

As the Invisibles followed Cloud into the room, Zack pointed at a moose head above the fireplace and screeched, "Eww, look at that!" Calling it creepy would've been an understatement. It actually pained Angeal a little to see a dead animal hanging in someone's mansion like that, and he frowned.

There was a freaky taxidermied moose head on the mantle, and Cloud averted his eyes. But otherwise, the room was nice. Cloud lay down, hugged a throw pillow and appreciatively eyed the stereo on one side of the room. Lucky, rich Hojo. Cloud blinked and remembered that _he_ was the lucky one now (for the most part). He smiled and snuggled into the cushions, closing his eyes.

"_TOUCH FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME-!"_

Cloud screeched and fell off the couch, smacking his head on the floor. Music—impossibly loud, deafening music that he could feel in his bones through the floor—was blasting from the massive sound system in the corner. He covered his ears and stumbled over to it, eyes wide.

Feeling the vibrations in his teeth, Cloud squinted through watering eyes for the cause of the problem. The power was on, and the volume knob was almost all the way to the right.

He jabbed the power button, and the music stopped. Now the mansion was freakishly silent, aside from the ringing in his ears.

Heart beating frantically, Cloud collapsed on the couch and buried his face in a pillow. Stupid, stupid house.

"_YOU'RE SO FINE AND YOU KNOW—_"

Cloud jolted and sprinted to the faulty piece of machinery, turning it off. He panted briefly, hand over heart, but it turned on and started up again.

"_LIKE A VIRGIN—"_

Cloud stubbornly turned it off. It turned back on… _again_. This happened a few times, Cloud jumping each time his ears were assaulted, even though he knew it was going to happen.

…Was this what Hojo listened to! He was disgusted. He bent to unplug it, but paused. The Cloud Strife of a few days ago would be this naïve. He _knew_ now.

He stood back up. It was quite possible that the stereo was turning on not because it was broken, but because _something _was _making _it do so.

It turned on again. Cloud's eyes were fixed on the power button, and he distinctly saw it get pressed in. The volume knob twisted a bit to the right. He wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't been paying such close attention.

Cloud felt like he had been punched in the gut. All these _coincidences_ he kept blaming on the mansion's various things and on Hojo weren't what he thought they were at all.

But, he realized, he wasn't as afraid of the ghost as he used to be. Now, he was just _angry_.

"I've got you!" Cloud shouted, throwing himself sideways, expecting to collide with something. Instead, he flew through the air and hit the ground hard, rolling and surely giving himself rug burn. His head was starting to hurt from Madonna's singing.

Crouching, Cloud swiveled his head around and examined every inch of the room. It was still in there—he could _feel _its presence—

There was a noise from above, and he looked up. He saw a rush of brown, but that was it before all he saw was black.

Waking with a splitting headache was _really _getting old. Cloud stirred slowly, putting a hand to his head and grunting. Eighties music was still playing, and head was throbbing. He blinked his eyes a few times, then started when all he saw was a glassy eye an inch from his own. He panicked, pushing and kicking, then didn't feel the thing's weight any more.

Cloud got a good look at it and collapsed, laughing weakly and without humor. Knocked unconscious by a moose head! Who would've thought?

The lesson he had learned earlier came back to him. No… it wasn't an accident—that creepy dead animal had been _purposely _made to fall on him.

Cloud winced and stood, unplugging the stereo and ruthlessly smashing the prongs of the plug against the wall, so they were hopelessly bent. A waste of money, but he didn't really care. It wasn't like it was _his _money. He left the room, holding his noggin between his palms. This ghost nonsense didn't make any sense… was he _really _dealing with a ghost, here?

He wouldn't understand just by thinking about it. Not knowing what else to do, Cloud teetered to his new bedroom, laid his head on his pillow and opened one of the books he had rescued the previous night.

_Mako_, the title read. He remembered finding this one. The front cover was plain, nothing but a murky brown with a greenish tint. It reminded him of shit. Nasty. He turned it so he could read the author's name.

"Hojo?" he breathed. _Hojo _had written this book. There was his name—Barnaby Hojo. Cloud snorted at the man's first name.

_Hey, Barbie! What's up?_

Barbie had been what the meaner relatives of the family had called Hojo behind his back when he wasn't around. He opened to a random page—dammit, it _was_ all sciencey gobbledygook. But after spending a few minutes skimming, he paused.

Alright, so Mako was something that was injected into your bloodstream, and it made you stronger. It sounded familiar, and Cloud remembered with a jolt that Mako was what SOLDIERs were injected with. He had heard stories about it, how bad you puked the first time you got it, how bad it _burned_ as it travelled through your body. Rufus had once said that Mako was what powered Midgar.

Cloud kept reading.

He flipped through it some more, but hastily tried to find one of the pages he had breezed over, after seeing the word 'Nibelheim' on it. He found it and curiously devoured the words.

"_The special brand of Mako found in Nibelheim, which is located in the Nibel Mountain area, can give specimens undesirable but curious side effects, such as invisibility."_

Cloud thought about that. His 'ghost' was solid. Was there a chance that he was dealing with one of Hojo's 'specimens?'

He felt sick. He really did. His relative had been up to _something _shady; that was for sure. But, like, human experimentation? That was a bit far-fetched. He didn't know what to think.

He had to use the bathroom. Cloud carefully stowed the book under the bed but on top of the wood underneath, so it wasn't visible to anyone peering under the bed (he wasn't taking _any _chances) and left the bedroom, blinking tired eyes. Maybe he had a concussion. That would be bad.

Cloud pissed, nearly falling over on his jelly-like legs as he stood in the bathroom. On the way back to his room, he was struck by a terrible dizziness.

That carpet looked soft… Cloud lay down on it, sighing in bliss like he wasn't lying in the hallway and was snuggling down on clouds.

Everything else could wait… he needed some shut-eye.

* * *

Five days left to live.

Gummy eyes peered at the mirror in the too-bright bathroom. It was late morning—Cloud was appalled. He had slept for a ridiculously long time, but he couldn't say that he blamed himself. He had needed that long rest—he felt incredibly well-rested now.

Even so, there were hideous bags under his eyes. Cloud frowned at his reflection. '5' was now written on his forehead beside the crossed-out '6', and he tried not to stare at it. He realized belatedly that his pants were missing. He was just in his boxer-briefs.

Panicking slightly, Cloud looked around in the hallway for them. No luck. He had a bad feeling and rushed to his bedroom.

It was totaled.

His clothes were everywhere. His sheets were thrown all over the place, and his mattress was standing upright against a wall. 'GET OUT' was scrawled on the mattress, probably with the same marker that had written on his forehead. His dresser drawers were scattered, and some of the broken glass from the bathroom had been tossed onto the carpet. One of the golden chairs' fabric was all ripped up.

He found his pants, all right. One pant leg was tied to the ceiling fan, and the other leg was hanging down and was tied as a noose around Sebastian's neck. His toy looked small and defenseless hanging there like that.

It was one of the most disturbing things he'd ever seen.

He found his wallet on the ground—no money was missing, but his driver's license was about ten feet away. Cloud didn't know what to make of it.

Where did he start? He frowned and began to come up with a plan to clean the room, but the doorbell rang. There was some sophisticated bell system—he could hear it in any part of the house.

Cloud cursed. He snagged a pair of crumpled pants and tugged them on as he hopped to the bathroom. He had to get rid of the marker if he was going to talk to anyone. Soap barely worked—he furiously doused a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and scrubbed his forehead with it, screeching when some dripped into his eye.

Half-blind (but clean), Cloud stumbled downstairs and darted to the door, heart sinking when he realized it was Tifa.

"Hi," he said breathlessly, trying to keep his ears from tearing up because of the alcohol in them. That would've been embarrassing.

"Hello Cloud!" Tifa chirped. "How're you—oh!" She cut herself off, inspecting his eyeball. It was bright red, like he had gotten pink eye or had burst every blood vessel in it.

"I'm okay," Cloud said automatically, blinking and feeling it tear up despite his best efforts. Tifa was frowning at him and scolded, "Are you getting enough sleep?"

Cloud sighed, "Not really." He unconsciously glanced at the mansion, but Tifa caught it.

"I don't blame you," the woman said, smiling. "I don't think I could ever go to sleep in there, after all of the stuff that's happened."

Blue eyes went wide. "…What?"

"Like the guy who owned the mansion first," Tifa elaborated. "And Hojo's butler. You know?"

Cloud shook his head, dumbfounded. Tifa chuckled and gestured to a loveseat that sat on the front porch. "Can we sit down, then? Oh, and these are for you." She handed him a previously-unnoticed bag of sugar cookies. Cloud beamed and thanked her. Those he could eat.

They sat, Tifa's thigh pressed against his in the small space. Cloud resisted the urge to scoot away; he'd hurt her feelings.

"I don't know that much," she confessed, "but I know what the rest of Nibelheim knows."

"I'm totally clueless," Cloud sighed. "Tell me everything."

Tifa bit her lip. "Well… Personally, I'd say that it's haunted."

She giggled. "After the first guy who owned the house disappeared and Hojo and his butler moved in, everyone thought that Hojo had killed him to get him out of the way." She paused. "That's all small-town speculation, but they were creepy enough, and we all liked the first guy. Apparently he didn't have any plans to leave or sell the house and was suddenly just… gone."

Cloud panicked. Maybe Hojo had experimented on the original guy, and that guy wanted his house back to himself now that Hojo was dead!

"Did you ever meet the first owner?"

"Huh? No—oh, right. Well, Hojo and his butler moved in for the first time in the late eighties. I didn't know him, I was little." She grinned. "I heard he was a looker, though. But then Hojo disappeared until about eight years ago, maybe. He's been there ever since, until about two weeks ago, when he died. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

Cloud waved her condolences away. "You know about that?"

Tifa snorted. "There was this huge explosion, and then the butler ran out of the house, covered in blood. _Everyone _knows."

Cloud paled. Hojo's butler… just who was he? He felt sick.

"Some people think that it was the ghost that killed him," Tifa whispered, though why even she didn't know.

The Invisibles, who were listening from the other side of the window that the couple were talking near, were silently cheering Tifa on.

"Look how scared he is!" Zack cackled, pointing through the glass at Cloud's quickly-greening face. Genesis beamed and kissed Zack's cheek, not knowing what else to do with himself. Sephiroth inwardly extended his thanks to the brunette.

"…Oh," Cloud said tightly.

"You couldn't pay me to stay here." Tifa tilted her head at the Manor. "It's pretty, yeah, but there's been too much death there. That, and sometimes we can see lights turning on and off from down in the village. Everyone's afraid of it."

_Death_. People had _died _because of that ghost—human—spirit—_thing!_ Tifa had said so!

"Tifa," he croaked. "I'm gonna be sick." He stood, grabbed the cookies and stumbled to the front door.

Tifa realized she had scared Cloud—and she wished she had been a bit more tactful. Cloud was obviously the kind of guy who could be bothered like that. She didn't blame him. He was sweet, and not afraid to show his emotions to a lady. Yes, she had definitely gotten lucky when Cloud moved to Nibelheim.

"Do you need help with anything?"

Cloud shook his head, managed, "Thanks for the cookies," and hurried inside, closing the door on Tifa's concerned face.

He chucked the bag into the kitchen, sprinted to the bathroom, threw up twice, and then went to his room and slept, nightmares waking him up in a cold sweat more than once.

* * *

Four days left to live.

The first sensation Cloud felt while his brain was still half-asleep was _burning_. He woke up more, alarmed and hoping his throat and the inside of his nose weren't covered in IcyHot, because it sure as hell _felt _like they were.

He sat up and coughed raggedly, feeling undeniably _clogged_. He cracked his eyes open, got an eyeful of his bedroom and screamed.

Everything was _white_. …Covered in a white powder. It smelled like…flour? And something else, too. That was scary in itself, but what was really scary were the footprints.

He had woken up a few times that night, and had cleaned his room the best he could around one in the morning. All this stuff hadn't been there then.

Cloud coughed again, sitting up. He stuck a finger up his right nostril and pulled it out—white. He had been breathing the stuff in all night! That explained the sore throat.

He noticed with a jolt that 'LEAVE' had been written on the mirror by someone's finger. That and the footprints on the floor nearly had Cloud running out of the mansion, but he _couldn't leave_. The ghost had to get over it.

In some sort of trance, Cloud slid out of bed and crouched, inspecting a full, unbroken print. It was far bigger than his own footprints. Wide. Thick tread. _Boots_.

Cloud fell back on his butt, hacking up a powdery, bad-tasting loogie and spat it on the carpet, not really caring anymore.

This was all the proof he needed. This thing was… Shiva, it had been in his room, walking around while he was asleep and defenseless! Why wasn't he dead?

Cloud paused, eyeing the word written on the mirror. …It seemed that the ghost didn't want to kill him, but just wanted him to go away.

Well, he _wasn't _going to leave. It would just have to kill him to be rid of him.

Brows furrowed, Cloud left his room, going to the bathroom to clean himself up. He _really _needed a cough drop.

Upstairs in the attic, Sephiroth winced as he stepped on a particularly squeaky floorboard. He glanced down so he would remember where it was so he wouldn't accidentally step on it again, if he ever came back up.

His foot left a faint white footprint on the old wood, and he smiled. They had generously piled flour and a harmless white chemical powder (that made the flour even harder to shake off things than it would be normally) under Cloud's bedroom door, then dragged a portable fan around and aimed it. After a few minutes they had turned it off and opened the door.

Completely white. Perfect.

They had decided that he had the biggest, most intimidating feet, and that he was the one who had to stomp around in the bedroom. Sephiroth had been disgruntled at that, until Genesis had said a few choice words about how 'big and sexy' his feet were. After that he had gladly gone inside, lifting his knees high between steps so he wouldn't smear his prints. He had written '4 DAYS' backwards on the boy's now-clean forehead, pausing at first because the boy's skin was so _soft_. Even more so than Genesis's, and the redhead was forever using creams and the like. He had shaken his head, finished his task and on inspiration wrote 'LEAVE' on the white-coated mirror.

They had relaxed and dozed in their room for a few hours, but then Zackary had scuttled upstairs and then made them all join him.

Cloud was awake now, and Sephiroth vowed not to make another sound that could tell him where they were. Things were different now, not like they were for the first couple of days after he moved in, but… still.

Sephiroth stopped short and stared at Zackary. He was in the process of putting on a medley of old woman's clothing, which Genesis was gleefully pulling out of a chest that really looked more like a hideous toy box. Angeal was pulling an off-white dusty skirt up Zack's legs with a snicker.

Zack giggled and caught Sephiroth's mystified gaze. "I found these a while back," he explained, gesturing at the pile of clothing. "Must've been Crazy's—" he paused. "…Wife?"

Angeal glanced at the pile. "No woman would want to marry _that man_."

"Maybe he was into crossdressing," Genesis suggested. He put Zack's left arm into a sweater sleeve and gave the ex-First a gentle spank when he tried to do the same with the other arm and accidentally hit Angeal in the shoulder.

All four tried hard not to picture that.

Zack held up a finger, yanked on a few more random articles of clothing, wrapped a scarf around his chin, mouth and nose and pulled a long, sagging hood over the top of his face. The fabric was thin enough that he could see through it with his enhanced eyesight. Not one inch of his invisible skin was showing anywhere.

Hunching over and speaking in an 'old granny' voice that surprised all of them, Zack croaked, "Hello! I've been sensin' some mighty powerful spirits in this here house!"

Cloud ate breakfast quietly, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.

The flour had taken ages to scrub off his skin—he hadn't even tried to clean up his bedroom yet. His throat still hurt too, and he winced as he swallowed a chunk of half-burnt toast.

This wouldn't go unpunished. He'd get this ghost back—all the things it was doing were inexcusable!

Cloud entertained a brief daydream about taking a baseball bat from somewhere and beating the poltergeist to death—er, again-death—with it. He could dream, couldn't he?

He nearly slammed his head down on the table when the doorbell rang. He muttered curses under his breath and stood on tiptoes to peer through the peephole. It wasn't Tifa, surprisingly; there was some old woman hunched over on his welcome mat. He couldn't see her face—everything was covered in layers of gross-looking, frayed clothing.

Wary, but trying to be polite, Cloud opened the door and said, "…Uh, hello. Can I help you with anything, ma'am?"

"YOU!" The old lady exclaimed loudly in a cracked, high-pitched voice. Cloud jumped about a foot in the air, not hearing the near-hysterical laughter that came from a certain ex-Commander from directly behind him. "You," she repeated, "shouldn't be in this here mansion! I sense evil—_so evil_—spirits about!"

Cloud's mouth fell open. "Um… excuse me?" he said dumbly. "H-How do you know about-"

"I'm a psychic, sonny," she interrupted. "And I've been sensin' a great aura from this here mansion of yours. The first tenant was killed, was he not? I thought it proper to come and tell you to get out…" she lowered her voice and said in a scary, quiet voice, "…_with your life._"

The quaking blond tried to say something else, but the woman pushed past him with surprising strength and started moaning, "Gaia bless! Gaia _bless! _Oh! No no no no no… such _evil _resides in these walls!"

Cloud hovered beside her and said awkwardly, "Excuse me, ma'am, but you can't just—"

She whirled around and pointed at his forehead. Her sleeve of her sweater hung over her hand, and Cloud wished he could have seen her face. He was getting a bit nervous.

"And what is this!" she lamented. "You have been touched by the accursed hand! Four days, boy! Why are you still here? It is obvious that it plans to _kill you_! Get out while you still can!"

Cloud took a deep, calming breath. "Look, ma'am. I appreciate that you came all this way to warn me. I'm aware of the spirits in this house, but I _can't_ leave."

"Can't leave?" she laughed, sounding like a dying hyena. "Nonsense. Of course you can! Leave _right now_ if you know what's good for you!"

She started limping through the house and Cloud followed her, at a loss. She kept screaming emphatically about how much _evil _there was, and how they wished him _harm _and blah blah blah—!

"Can't you exorcise it or something?" Cloud finally gasped, desperate to get her to leave.

The woman froze, then turned her head slightly and gazed intently at something over his shoulder. She shrugged, then nodded solemnly.

"We can try," she said at length. She stared at Cloud when he lit up, eyes bright and shining with gratitude.

"What do I do?" he asked seriously.

Her hunch became even more pronounced when she gave a weird motion, like a shrug that she tried to cover up halfway through. "Hold your arms out," she instructed, voice like sandpaper. "Eyes closed."

Cloud obeyed.

"Now stand on one foot… your _other _foot—and wiggle your fingers. …Trust me, boy. Now rotate your neck, mouth open, tongue out. And stick your patooty out too—do you _want_ these malicious spirits to kill you?"

Feeling ridiculous, Cloud did so. He listened closely to her words, losing his balance every few seconds but doing his best to stay on one foot.

"_Spirits!" _she roared, making Cloud jump again. "Leave this home! You do not belong here!"

The air felt tense, and Cloud wondered what she was doing.

"Your time haunting this mansion and this poor boy is up! Return to the Lifestream where you belong!"

Cloud waited, expectant. There was a rush of air to his left, and there was a horrible, gritty scream as the woman tried to say something else.

His eyes flew open. The old lady was unconscious, head lolling as she… _floated_. She was about four feet off the ground, considerable amount of clothing all over the place. Cloud froze, utterly paralyzed with terror.

Genesis was crying, he was laughing so hard. Zack did his best not to make a noise or shake as he laughed. Sephiroth and Angeal hefted Zack higher and snickered at the horrified blond.

Slowly, she hovered out of the house. Cloud watched her go, eyes huge.

The woman's body drifted out the front door, and the door slammed shut behind her.


	9. Revenge of the Cloud

**Tobi: Hey guys! Omg, thank you! Gussie and Anonymouse #270 were reviewers 450 and 500! (and thanks to SephFan. She knows why. :3) **

**CM: IT'S THE TIME YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! NYAHAHA! REVENGE OF THE CLOUD! (THANKS for the chapter title terracannon876!) omg guys this is gonna be fun. Tobi and I had so much fun writing it! You all have no idea. And remember the next chapter is dedicated to ALL the reviewers. It's _that_ awesome! Just out of curiosity how many people actually read my coauthor note? XD Til next Friday all! much love.**

* * *

What the _hell_ was going on up there?

For days, there had been nothing _but _noise. That was weird, because before it had been silent. He blinked slowly, straining his ears.

Two of them were plotting in whispers. He heard light snoring. Someone was reading a book—he could hear the flipping of pages every so often. This was odd—it must've been a break of sorts.

Sure enough, before long there was more screaming, crying, thumps and bangs. Weird.

But it wasn't any of his business.

He stared placidly ahead, and then noticed a thin stream of sunlight in the corner. He turned his head the best he could, seeing a minuscule hole. It irritated him. He deserved complete darkness. …Besides, how was it getting in? He was pretty sure that there wasn't a window. That would have been too easy.

It didn't really matter, did it? Even if he _was _offered a means of escape, he wouldn't take it.

He had sinned, and this was his punishment.

* * *

Three days left to live.

Cloud reclined in bed, intensely studying _Mako_. He was suspicious; he'd say it. Things weren't adding up. Still, he felt a little silly trying to decipher a book that was written for people obviously smarter than he.

After a while he gave up, stuffing it under his bed and leaning back. He exhaled, letting his sore muscles sink into the comfort of the mattress.

After that old lady had been carried out of the house the previous night, Cloud had fled to his bedroom. He had read more of _Mako _and had fallen asleep curious and not a little bit disturbed.

Luckily, he didn't remember his nightmares… much. Cloud shivered a little, rubbing his arms across the goosebumps on his arms. He knew they had something to do with laboratories, but that was it.

He felt like taking a nap. He stretched, spreading out on the huge bed. You could've easily fit five or six people in there.

He closed his eyes, and not three seconds later, the door slammed open. Cloud sat up, breath catching.

Nothing.

Cloud didn't dare relax, though. He scooted back on the bed, pushing Sebastian behind his back in an unconscious protective gesture.

His ankle was tightly gripped, and Cloud was dragged out of bed and onto the floor. Cloud screamed, thrashing, but was pulled into the hallway and into the direction of the steps.

"Let go of me!" Cloud howled, kicking and grabbing onto the door frame. His fingers were almost gently pried off by something that was _definitely _another hand. There were fingers, warm ones.

Cloud froze, and he was forcibly taken down the hallway again. He wailed, sobbing. _It was touching him—_

Was this it? Was he going to die here, right now? At the mercy of something he couldn't even see?

No!

Cloud lashed out viciously, trying to stand and attack, bash, _kill_. He planted his right arm and meant to push himself up with it, but it was chopped out from underneath him. He crumpled and screamed at the top of his lungs when he was unwillingly dragged down the steps.

"He needs to stop," Angeal growled, keeping a firm grip on Cloud's ankle. The blond was thrashing and yelling like a wild animal.

Zack removed the boy's fingers from the banister railing for the sixth time and grunted, "Relax! We're not gonna fuckin' _kill _you." Cloud couldn't have heard, but it was the thought that counted.

Cloud was smart and flipped onto his back when he made it to the bottom of the steps. His tummy had some serious rug burn.

"Fuck yoouuuu!" He yelled, fingers scrabbling on the marble floor. "Let the fuck go of me! I didn't do _anything _to you!"

Zack snorted at that statement. "It's about what you _could _do, kid."

Cloud was roughly pushed out of his house, and the front door slammed shut in his face. He heard the distinct click of a lock.

Locked out. The _thing _in his house had taken him out of his bedroom and had _locked _him _out_.

…Shouldn't he have been more afraid? He should have been screaming and freaking out still, right? Cloud thought about that for a moment, staring blankly at the door.

…Nah, he wasn't afraid. Not really. Cloud knew he wasn't the –ahem– smartest person around, but he could get the job done. So why was he still here? Surely taking his chances with Tseng's scary acquaintances and the man himself would have been preferable to this?

But it was personal, now. He _refused _to leave.

Cloud tried the doorknob, wiggling it and even knocking politely. It didn't work. He frowned, looking around for another entrance. He didn't think there was one, as far as he knew. His gaze landed on one of the windows, and he smiled.

_Where the hell is the shed? There isn't a garage…_

Cloud had wandered all over one side of the grounds for fifteen minutes, unsuccessfully locating anything. Surely there was a storage… _something_ somewhere, right? He was surprised that there wasn't a garage, actually. Maybe he was just stupid and missed it?

…Nah.

It was behind the mansion where he finally found it. Nestled next to a bunch of tall, shady trees was a tiny wooden building. He grinned and trotted to it, taking note of the hammock stretched between two of the trees. Near the pool, in the shade, nice view of the mountains… seemed like a good place to nap.

The door was unlocked; it didn't even have a lock, actually. Hojo must've been pretty confident that no one would try to steal his stuff.

Cloud walked inside, coughing at the dusty, musty smell. There wasn't that much inside—only paint cans, a little step ladder, a riding lawn mower—_Thank Gaia!_—and various things packed onto a table in the back that he didn't bother with.

He needed something that could break glass.

A golf club was found on the floor, and he scooped it up. Perfect. Cloud turned to leave, but spotted an odd shape in a darkened corner. He crouched, noticed a paint can that was over _twenty years old _and picked it up.

Cloud held it and whispered, "A paintball gun?"

Maybe some kid had left it there once, for whatever reason. He tried not to think about Hojo paintballing with his other old-fart friends. …Actually, that was pretty funny.

He looked, but couldn't find any ammo for it. Bummer.

Cloud clenched his hand around the golf club's handle and darted back to the house, trying to be quiet. He crept to a window on the back side of the house, peered inside even though he wouldn't see anyone in there anyway, and aimed it at a panel of glass. These were big windows—he could probably squeeze through part of one if he broke it.

He jabbed it forward harshly, and the glass broke. It wasn't that loud, but to Cloud, who had been tense and listening closely, it was almost deafening.

Quickly, he broke the glass around the edges that hadn't broken off and tried to hoist himself inside. He bit back a scream as his palms were cut by a few little shards, but kept going.

He was halfway inside when something pressed against the top of his head. Cloud froze, quaking a little when he felt invisible fingers delve into his spikes.

"He's so damn stubborn," Genesis sighed miserably. He tilted his head, "But I wonder what kind of conditioner and gel he uses to get those spikes? His hair's marvelously soft!"

"Now is not the time, Genesis," came Angeal's voice from the next room over.

Gently but firmly, with a strength that he couldn't even compete with, Cloud was pushed out of the window. The grip in his hair tightened and pulled a little before letting go. A warning.

Cloud stood stupefied in the late summer air for a full minute before coming to his senses. He panicked a little—feeling actual fucking _fingers _was so, so wrong. His ghost… what the hell _was _it, really?

Cloud scowled. Fuck his ghost! _No one _did this to him!

He grabbed the golf club, backed up about ten feet and hurled the thing as hard as he could at the window.

He ran as soon as it hit, scrambling inside quickly during the confusion. His hands, knees and shins were dripping blood at this point, but he still managed to get inside. He stumbled out of the room, beelining for the first-aid kit. He left it out in the open in the parlor; he kept needing to use it, sadly.

There was a noise from behind him, and Cloud bolted. He sprinted to the room, grabbed it and kept running, looking frantically for a place to hide. He'd never make it up the stairs—it'd probably get him and drag him outside again.

He sprinted past a few rooms, passed the home theater and doubled back. Across the hall from the home theater's doors was a very unimpressive door.

He threw it open and squeezed inside, closing the door softly behind him. He didn't hear anything, so he assumed he had safely gotten away with it. He waited a full minute, breath erratic, then calmed down a bit.

Expecting a closet, he jumped a little when he turned around. Pitch-black… but he could faintly see steps.

"…It's not worth it," Angeal reasoned. Zack had his hand almost on the doorknob to the basement. They wanted to chase after the idiotic blond and scare him so bad he'd _finally_ leave, but they could use the precious time alone.

And besides, even though one of the entrances to the labs was down there, there was an alarm on the door. If he got up to anything, they'd know.

Angeal pulled Zack away to go eat lunch, and they left Cloud alone…for now.

Cloud found a light switch and flicked it up—a surprisingly long carpeted staircase was revealed. He frowned and descended, staring at what he found.

He should've guessed that the basement would've been cool, too. There was one of these enormous workout jungle-gym looking things in the center of the room, a TV on the wall with some outdated game system plugged into it, and bean bag chairs on the ground. There was a couch along the wall, too.

Cloud glanced down at himself. He was pretty muscular—toned from carrying heavy packages and riding Fenrir all the time. He and Denzel, an orphan Aerith knew, used to go jogging around Midgar together. He missed that kid.

He ran his hands down his flat, tight tummy and frowned. He knew his body wasn't _unattractive, _but he wished he showed more muscle. He wanted to be _ripped_!

Cloud glared at the equipment and stepped more fully into the room. He could probably stay here for a while… he wasn't too keen on going back upstairs.

He remembered his newest batch of wounds and set about cleaning them. He had gotten glass in his hands and knees—it felt strangely like the time he had gotten hurt after he had broken the shower door. He was _so damn sick _of picking glass out of his body. The bean bag he had plopped down onto was heavenly, and he debated taking a nap in it when he was done. …Nah—what if his ghost came down while he was asleep? Not good.

He stood, rotating his now-bound hands and wrists. His knees were littered in bandages, as were his shins.

What a beautiful sight _he _made.

Cloud peeked around a little more, then blinked. In a back corner was a door. It was plain, but there was an _electronic lock _on it.

Frowning, Cloud examined it. He'd need a special I.D. card to get in. What the hell was back there?

_Hojo's secret lab!_

He quickly got away from the door. He was about to just _work out _to pass the time, but something caught his eye.

Against one wall was a bookcase that stretched all the way up to the ceiling. But what Cloud was staring at was a copy of _Mako _sitting innocently between other thick books.

Cloud curiously reached up and pulled it off the shelf. Or he _tried _to—it came out about two inches, then stopped. Cloud tugged again; suddenly there was a flurry of movement, and then there was darkness.

Fighting off a wave of nausea, Cloud panted shallowly and clenched his eyes shut. He opened them after a moment, but he couldn't see anything.

Wherever he was now, it was cold, damp and smelled like asscrack. Cloud let out a gust of air and stood still until his eyes adjusted. He could still feel the bookcase next to him, and it hit him like a slap to the face.

_OH MY GODS!_

He had tried to pull a book out of a bookcase, and the bookcase had _turned_!

_A secret room! This is so cool!_

As Cloud's eyes adjusted more, he decided that it was definitely _not _cool.

On the floor were at least ten coffins. Cloud jolted and he scrambled for a light switch. He found one, but the light bulb must've been burnt out.

His breathing was loud and erratic now, and Cloud willed it to quiet. He nervously crept forward, inspecting the first one. It was empty. Creepy, but empty. Thank Gaia.

A horrible thought hit him. What if… his ghost… this coffin…

He recoiled, almost tripping over another one. He peered down at it, seeing it was extravagant and flashy. Confused, he crouched and squinted, inspecting.

It seemed to be white… or a light blue. He ran his fingers over the top; there were pictures and really detailed things carved into it, but he couldn't tell what they were. One seemed to be a word.

His fingers touched the letters, and he located the first one, tracing it with the pad of his pointer finger.

'C.' He kept going, finding an 'L' beside the first letter.

Cloud paused.

Then he found an 'O.'

Cloud started sweating.

'U.'

Cloud trembled.

'D.'

Cloud yelped and scrambled away from the—_his_—coffin, backing up against a wall.

_What the hell!_

Panicked thoughts flitted around in his head before a thick dread settled over him like a blanket. Three days left to live. T-The ghost… it… _His coffin was already made! _

Cloud stumbled, looking for the bookcase. His hand landed on a doorknob, and he opened the door. The coffin room was dark, but the tunnel that the door opened to was even darker and scarier.

…Was this another entrance to Hojo's laboratory? A secret one? An escape route or something, perhaps?

He gently closed the door and shakily walked away, arms straight in front of him. His foot brushed a thick metal chain, and he glanced down.

The coffin in the center of the room was covered in chains. Padlocked. Bolted shut. He got the very distinct feeling that he _shouldn't _be in this little room, staring at it.

He turned and ran like hellfire was behind him to one of the walls, which turned out to be the right one. He grabbed for _Mako_, clutched onto the bookcase and scrambled back upstairs once he was back in the normal basement.

He'd rather take his chances with his ghost over whatever was in that coffin.

An hour later Cloud sat on his bed, _Mako _off to the side.

Three days left to live.

What was going to happen on the last day? Would he really… die? Cloud decided that he had to do something about it. Something _big_. He was fighting for his life here! He pictured the paintball gun sitting in the shed.

He could do this.

After much thinking, and once it was dark out, he painstakingly made one of those neat sheet-ladders. He had learned in Chocobo Scouts, back when he was a kid. He worked quietly, using blankets he had nicked from a storage closet in the hall. It looked sturdy enough, and he was only on the second floor, so it was alright.

He looped one end around one of the bottom legs of his bed. It was freakishly heavy—he doubted his weight would make anything bad happen to it.

He rolled the other end out the window, took a deep breath and crawled outside. The night air was a bit chilly, a sign that fall was coming, but he was okay in his sweatpants and t-shirt. He carefully scaled the outside wall, dropping about five feet into a garden. As far as he knew, he hadn't made any noise, so he was alright.

Cloud ducked low and ran around the house, managing not to trip himself up and scream and be found out and ultimately killed. He did, however, walk straight into one of the trees surrounding the shed. He swore in his head, rubbed his sore noise and entered the tiny structure, wincing when the door squeaked. He reached in and fished around for the paintball gun, then pulled it out.

He tucked his find under his arm, and decided to grab a bunch of pieces of long rope hanging on the wall. He hurried back to the side of the house where his window was, then began the perilous climb back up. It was hard going, since he was now carrying stuff, but he managed. He crawled back in the window, rolled up his ladder and hid it under his bed. He'd need it for tomorrow.

Cloud curled up in bed (which was missing a few sheets) and tried to calm down. Tomorrow… he'd make a stand. If he was going to die, then he was going to bring the ghost down with him, whether it was already dead or not.

* * *

Two days left to live.

Cloud crouched under the kitchen table, terrified. He was inches away from death, he knew, but it was _exciting_!

He rolled out from under the table and eyed the knife waving around the room. There was not a doubt in his mind that it was his ghost. There was a long, shallow cut up his arm, almost all the way from his wrist to elbow. It was bleeding, but he paid it no mind. He knew what it was—a warning.

It was too bad that he _would not leave_, though. He'd make this ghost kiss his ass; there was _no way_ he'd submit to it. This was _his mansion!_

Cloud, fueled by adrenaline and not really knowing what he was doing anymore, picked up one of the chairs and hurled it at the flying, faintly bloody knife.

"Holy shit!" Zack squeaked, dodging and watching as it dented the refrigerator and broke into three pieces.

Cloud barely glanced at the damage. He dove for one of the drawers, pulling out a rolling pin and seizing a pot's lid off of the stove.

He held out the rolling pin threateningly. The knife took him up on the offer. It slashed; Cloud blocked it with the pot lid and jabbed out with the rolling pin. He had no experience with swords, but he was determined.

He fenced with the floating knife for a good three minutes, practically dancing all over the kitchen with his clumsy footwork. Zack was openly guffawing at him, but he obviously didn't hear.

When the rolling pin was knocked out of his grip and the same happened to the pot lid, He seized an apple from a bowl of fruit on the counter and threw that. It splattered onto the wall and fell down into the sink.

The blond didn't know it, but he was grinning like a madman as he sparred with kitchen utensils and threw fruit. Who knew? Maybe he had finally been driven insane.

The smiling stopped when the knife deftly pierced an incoming orange right down the center. Both Cloud and the knife paused, and then the sharp utensil was jabbed at him. It was useless to continue to fight; he'd get more than a little slice next.

Cloud fled the kitchen, pausing to chuck the empty fruit bowl. It exploded upon impact with the wall, and Zack's back was pelted with pottery shards.

This kid was fuckin' _nuts_!

Rushing upstairs, Cloud giggled to himself.

That morning, he had gotten a rude wake up call.

_("Genesis, would you please take care of that snoring?")_

_("On it.")_

He had jolted awake, already flailing and twisting. A pillow had harshly been pressing over his face; he hadn't been able to breathe. A minute's vicious struggle had the pillow off of him, but then it smacked him upside the head, stunning him and knocking him over off the bed and onto the floor. Cloud could appreciate your average pillow fight, but he _didn't _think he liked the ghostly, super-strong version of the game.

This thing _really _wanted him to leave.

_No can do, bastard!_

He had been waging war in his own home since seven that morning.

Skidding into the nursery, he rummaged through the room until he found an ancient bottle of baby powder. It was unopened, but he didn't spend any time thinking about it. If he got lucky, he could puff it onto his ghost. That way, he'd be able to see it and chase it down. He could finally _kill it_!

Giddy, Cloud bounced downstairs, now armed. He listened closely for any sounds of movement, turning his head this way and that.

His brilliant plan must have been discovered, though, because the baby powder was suddenly knocked out of his hand. Cloud shouted and launched himself to the side, trying to tackle it. He didn't connect though and fell to the floor. He had bruises from doing that all morning.

The front door opened, and the bottle went flying out into the woods. It was like someone had _catapulted _it—it must've gone half a mile! How strong _was _this ghost!

Cloud choked. He hadn't been paying attention, but now he could see that Fenrir—

"That was close," Zack sighed. Angeal rubbed his upper arm, staring outside where he had thrown the baby powder. He neatly stepped to the side as Cloud dashed outside, hollering. Sephiroth and Genesis skirted around the blond, lips and tongues stained different colors. Zack stared at them. Genesis chuckled and jabbed a finger over his shoulder, licking his red and purple lips. Sephiroth's were mostly blue and green.

Cloud wailed at the sight of his precious motorcycle. He sank to his knees beside it, eyes wide.

Fenrir was covered in candy.

Jolly ranchers, to be exact.

"W-W-What the…?" Cloud stuttered. Little colorful fun-sized hard candies were stuck all over the bike. There was an empty gallon-sized bag lying crunched up near his baby's front tire.

It looked like Candyland had thrown up and shat all over it.

He _remembered _this bag of candy! He had found it in one of the cabinets when he had first moved in.

A few shaking fingers tugged on one of the sticky candies, and it came off with a noise that made Cloud flinch as if he had been slapped. He peered at the spot—Fenrir's shiny, beautiful, envy-of-everyone paint had peeled off, stuck to the jolly rancher.

He dropped it in disbelief. Zack was outright giggling at the odd sight the motorcycle made.

Cloud's back arched, and he stared unseeingly up at the sky and screamed. It was loud, anguished and filled any listeners with immeasurable sadness. …Sort-of.

The Invisibles stared at the boy outside as he fisted his hands in his hair and wailed like his best friend had died taking on an army to save him while he was in a coma.

There was a heartbeat of silence after the screaming stopped, and then Cloud was yelling at them, still staring at his bike.

"What the hell did I ever do to you! I did _nothing _to hurt you!"

The four men inside tuned him out and began walking to the kitchen.

"I've put up with all your crap! You've made my life _hell_! I was willing to live peacefully with you, but there's a line, and you just _crossed it!_"

"How'd you get them to stick?" Zack asked curiously.

Genesis licked his colorful lips again. "Easy. You suck on it for a few seconds or lick one side and press it on there. It hardens and sticks. So."

Angeal smiled. "Clever."

There was a roar from behind them, and they turned to see Cloud riding his vandalized motorcycle right up the front steps of house and straight into the house. His face was eerily blank, but fury was pouring out of him in waves.

They froze, mouths hanging open. Cloud twisted his hand and shot straight at Zack.

"Holy _shit_!" Zack exclaimed, much like he had earlier in the kitchen. He dove to the side, as did the others.

Cloud almost hit the wall, but went back in an impossibly high wheelie, swung the bike around on his back tire and barreled forward like that again.

Zack screeched, furiously dodging as Cloud kept charging him. The marble floor was covered in skid marks, but no one was paying any attention to that.

"Drop the knife!" Angeal yelled at Zack. He spoke so Cloud wouldn't be able to hear him and go for _him _next.

Glancing down, Zack realized he was still holding the knife he had teased Cloud with earlier. He turned, stood his ground and waved it tauntingly.

Cloud's blue eyes narrowed into slits. He did another impressive maneuver and darted towards Zack. Genesis looked like he was going to piss himself, and Sephiroth stood still with his jaw loose and flapping, bewildered.

Pulling up, Cloud went into a wheelie, obviously preparing to crush the 'ghost.' The room, although big, was not very large at all when you were on a motorcycle like Fenrir. Each time Cloud crossed the room it took about three seconds.

Zack waited until Cloud was almost on top of him before dropping the knife and shooting out of the way. Only his enhancements saved him.

Cloud, expecting an impact of some sort, blinked when nothing happened. He was now too far back on his rear wheel and fell backwards, Fenrir on top of him.

The blond rolled to the side, not getting crushed, luckily. Fenrir slid into a wall with a crash.

For a minute, Cloud didn't move. Then he struggled to his feet, still angry and unafraid.

All four felt a grudging respect for him. He was weird and probably just as insane as Hojo had been, but he could be pretty cool, if he was angry enough. SOLDIER could've used someone with motorcycle skills like that, once upon a time.

"Fuck you!" Cloud spat, trembling all over. He had figured out that the 'ghost' had dropped the knife, and now he didn't know where it was.

The Invisibles were silent, still a little dumbfounded. …Had this boy _really _just driven his motorcycle inside his own mansion so he could kill them?

Cloud glowered, picked up Fenrir and brought it back outside. The Invisibles looked at each other, and Genesis gave a little huff of disbelief.

"Damn," Angeal said softly, voicing what the other three were thinking.


	10. The War of Nibelheim Manor

**Tobi: Heeeeey! Alright: Shirosenshi Kisetsu 116 was 550th, and Orbiting Gravity was 600th. You guys are AMAZING. This chapter's freakishly long; I hope you enjoy it! (Heh heh heh...)**

**CM: Thanks for all the reviews guys! All you silent readers make sure you review this chapter ok? Just this one. Tobi and I wanna know how many real readers we have. :D You all should be proud of me. I replied to everyone this time! *phew* If i did skip you that was unintentional. Now go read! This chapter is packed!**

* * *

If his mother could have heard what he was muttering under his breath as he sped through Nibelheim, she would've washed his mouth out with soap. She had been a kind, pleasant woman, but when she got angry, you _ran_. But she was dead, and Cloud was free to do what he liked.

People were staring. They were either completely ignored or fiercely glared at, and the stares eventually stopped. He really couldn't deal with anyone's crap right now.

Nibelheim was small. Cloud needed things. What he needed he couldn't buy in his new town, and he was forced to drive to the nearest place with a population with more than five thousand.

As he rode, Cloud avoided looking down at his precious bike. It was too depressing. What was worse was that he could _feel _them against his legs—those evil, satanspawn jolly ranchers! Fucking stupid candies!

Cloud risked a glance down, heart constricting painfully. His poor bike. He had saved up for years to afford a basic—but still pretty awesome—motorcycle and had done all the other modifications by himself. Fenrir was his pride and joy.

And his ghosts had ruined it.

This meant _war_.

His inner rage grew and grew as people in the little city he made it to snickered at him. This wasn't anywhere near as big as Midgar, and he acutely missed his old home as he entered the parking lot at some big store that boasted that they sold _Everything—from Apples to Zippers! _Pretty lame fucking slogan, if you asked him.

He parked Fenrir, shot it a mournful look and swept into the store. It was warehouse-ish on the inside, with a gross, destroyed ceiling that he supposed was supposed to make you think that they were cheap and had low prices.

He beelined for a back section, staring at the wide selection before him. He didn't know what to look for, exactly; he'd need help.

Stretching slowly, Cloud raised his hands to the ceiling after sticking his hands in his pockets and tugging his jeans down far enough so that the whiteness of his briefs poked out. A confused expression slowly crossed his face.

Cloud looked back and forth a little, absentmindedly running a hand along his stomach. He pushed his shirt up, tried to look helpless and resisted the urge to smile when an eager voice asked, "Can I help you with anything, Sir?"

There was a young female employee standing in front of him, and another two peeking out from behind a cardboard display.

Reno was an awful, disgusting person that he hoped he never met again, but Cloud couldn't deny that he was good with the ladies. He gave a foxy (but kind and open—people always said that his manners and thoughtfulness were completely adorable) smile.

"Hello, beautiful," he flattered. She went pink, and the blond made sure to 'accidentally' show some more skin. "I'm looking for some things, and I need some help…"

Twenty minutes later Cloud left with one big bag in his hand and four phone numbers in his pocket. He couldn't wait to put his purchases to use—this was certainly going to be a day to remember.

There was a cluster of girls surrounding Fenrir, giggling and snapping pictures with their cell phones. Cloud stiffened and went still with rage for a moment, then let a flirtatious smile bleed back onto his face.

He could be a real ladies' man when he wanted to be, but stick him in front of a handsome man and he was a shy, blushing, stuttering idiot. Reno had thought that was cute and had turned his charm on him one day, and—

_Don't think about him._

"Can I help you ladies?" Cloud purred, swaying over to his ride.

One busybody stopped fingering one of the candies stuck to the paint and turned; so did the others. Cloud flashed them all a bright smile and said to the busybody, flicking his spikes out of his eyes, "What's your name?"

"Candi," she said after a moment, shooting one of her friends a look.

Cloud put his bag in the storage compartment, swung a leg over Fenrir and looked her in the eye. He gestured down at his bike and said in a husky voice, "I _love _candy."

Then he was gone, throwing a wink over his shoulder before speeding out of the parking lot. He heard one or maybe all of them squeal as he pulled away.

White teeth ground together as soon as he was back on the road. He had been _so angry_, but he knew he could either get mad and blow up at them, or save his anger for what currently resided in his new home.

The ride back seemed much shorter than it did the other way. His impatience and excitement might have been why.

Cloud wasn't stupid. Fenrir was a loud bike. He didn't drive it all the way up to the house; he parked it in the woods and made his way to the house on foot. He plopped his helmet on his head and made sure to stick his keys in his pocket so no freaks could make off with his bike while he was busy. He moved quietly; he needed the element of surprise.

His sheet ladder was still hanging out the window. Cloud carefully made his way up it, making sure not to make any noise. If his ghost saw him now, he doubted he'd be able to pull this off.

Cloud crawled in the window, pulled up his ladder and spread his things out on the bed. Pillows—he needed pillows… he scampered down the hall and grabbed them off of each bedroom he came across (he didn't take Hojo's, though. Ick).

Downstairs, Sephiroth heard Cloud's footsteps as he ran around. He didn't think anything of it, though; that boy was far too paranoid for his own good. (However, Cloud probably was that way because of them, he noted absently.) He'd run away from his own shadow.

The rope Cloud had taken from the shed was thin, but seemed to hold up well enough. He laid his bike helmet and everything else in order in groups, preparing to put his plan into action. He gravely put Sebastian in a dresser drawer, murmuring, "You've gotta sit this one out, buddy. I'll come back for you. Hopefully."

Once the drawer closed, Cloud set his jaw, offered a quick prayer to the Gods and got down to work.

Genesis often pretended to be completely annoyed at Zack's puppy-like behavior. That was a lie, of course—he was just happy that Zack had held onto so much of his innocence after everything Hojo did to them.

Zack was chattering about some reality show he had seen in private last night in some room with a television. And even though his ears were almost ready to fall off for real this time, without acting, Genesis did not complain.

"So then Jenny said to Brian, 'she's my sister!' And I was like 'ohhhh noooo, Brian's so fucked.' But then Angela slapped Allison, and Brian—"

He cut himself off, staring up the main staircase at something. Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal curiously followed his gaze.

A spiky marshmallow bellowed something and ran down the stairs, a plastic bag and a motorcycle helmet in its hands.

The Invisibles stared and followed as the fast-moving blob sprinted by them and into a comfortable, open room in the middle of the first floor, kind of near the kitchen. Cloud tipped a couch over, piled its cushions around him haphazardly and darted around, chucking cushions and pillows from couches and chairs in the other rooms onto the growing pile. Pillows were tied to his body with a length of thin rope that cris-crossed his chest, arms and legs. It was the most pathetic armor any of them had ever seen.

Five minutes later found Cloud crouched behind the couch in a makeshift fort. His blue eyes were narrowed as he looked around the room, slowly enough that it actually felt like he was staring at them. The blond glared, picked up the helmet and smashed it onto his head, pulling down the visor.

A black metal tube then appeared; it was the barrel of a medium-length gun that rested against the couch. Cloud gripped it and hunkered down for battle.

"Do your worst," came a slightly muffled voice, hard and strong and not sounding at all like the voice of the scared crybaby who had been living with them.

Cloud meant _business_.

The Invisibles cracked up. He looked so _serious_!Really, a normal boy against four Mako-enhanced, _Invisible _SOLDIERs. He didn't stand a chance, and yet he was going to try.

"Aww," Genesis cooed in a fake, high-pitched voice. "The kitten is trying to kill us! How _cute!"_

The boy looked completely ridiculous, covered in pillows and hiding behind a bunch of cloth and stuffing, but he looked _serious_. And that gun… what was it, exactly? It didn't look like anything they had seen before.

Angeal was closest. He communicated with the others through eye contact and gestures, then silently started towards Cloud.

The boy was on his knees, obviously listening intently for any noises. Angeal could see his eyes through the visor—they were narrowed suspiciously and swiveling in their sockets, gazing all over the room and into the rooms that opened into the one they were in.

The tallest man in the room crouched beside the makeshift fort of softness and peered at the gun. It didn't look that threatening—in fact, it almost looked like a toy… what the hell was this kid trying to pull?

He grinned reassuringly at his three heartily amused lovers, reaching out a little to take it away from the young man. His knee bumped into one of the pillows, and it fell over. Angeal froze for a second, and then Cloud whirled around and fired a shot point blank at the man's face.

For a beat, Sephiroth, Zack and Genesis's hearts stopped. Then they realized Angeal was still very much alive, and that _green _was all over his jaw and cheek.

A _paintball gun_?

Cloud had frozen too, surprised that he had actually _hit_ his ghost. Then he recovered, and all hell broke loose.

Angeal was smacked in the face repeatedly with a fly swatter that had been pulled out of the plastic bag. He threw his arms up to defend against the furious onslaught, hearing Zack yell in a voice almost drowned out by helpless sobs of laughter, "What the fuck?"

Cloud screamed and hollered as he beat the shit out of his ghost. This might be his only chance… his only chance to beat this thing and _defend his home! _He kept an eye on that splatter of floating green paint, aiming for it with each whack of the fly swatter. For two bucks, that had been a very good purchase.

The paint suddenly zoomed away, and he only hit air. Cloud dove for the gun.

Genesis was on his knees, crying a little as he laughed. The kid—that ridiculous, stupid little kid—had _totally _gotten Angeal. "W-Wash it off," he gasped, pointing a shaking finger at Angeal's jaw. Cloud was still blasting away at Angeal with his gun.

"Way ahead of you," Angeal mumbled, embarrassed and just barely avoiding the paintballs that were flying straight at him. It hadn't _hurt_, and neither had the fly swatter, but his pride had been wounded a little.

…Dammit, that kid was good.

When the green paint's disappearance told him his ghost had left (for now), Cloud gripped his gun tighter and let his ears do the seeing for him. It would come back. He needed to focus, focus, focus…

Holding back laughter, Genesis covered his mouth and looked at Sephiroth and Zack. Sephiroth had his eyes closed and was shaking his head slowly.

Genesis knocked twice on an end table, just as an experiment. Cloud frowned, and Genesis's chest was struck with a yellow paint ball; two more quickly followed the first.

Cloud bellowed and opened fire.

It didn't hurt Genesis much. But, he wasn't happy about being pelted. Zack was laughing at him, telling him to run away.

Genesis Rhapsodos did not _run away_.

Cloud grit his teeth and kept firing at the blob of paint in the next room. He had made sure to make his fort in a room that was openly connected to three more in one big, long strip. He waited and listened for more movement.

Sephiroth, who was inching towards Cloud so he could grab the gun, hissed, "Genesis!"

Genesis dodged a flying paintball, pushed Zack away from a stray one and sighed loudly. He skittered to the side, heading out of the open part of the house and seeking cover somewhere where he wasn't in Cloud's line of fire.

Cloud stood and hurtled after him. He went right past Sephiroth, who had just been about to snatch the gun away.

Genesis paled as the helmeted, pissed off marshmallow-boy sprinted for him, firing and hitting him almost without fail.

Zack swore and chased them out of the room. Sephiroth followed, managing to absently praise Cloud's shooting skills and wish that a Cadet had had his shooting skills way back when.

Cloud continued to shoot as he chased after the blob of floating paint. With every shot that connected with whatever had been hunting, he felt a little bit happier, a little bit less…sane. He tried to keep it together (_No,_ he wouldn't be driven crazy by this stupid _thing_) and just focused on shooting.

By now almost hysterical with amusement and even a little panic, Zack called to Genesis, "Take your clothes off!"

Genesis protested, then realized that Cloud would continue to shoot if he could tell where he was because of the paint. Sephiroth knocked over a vase, drawing Cloud's attention away from the redhead for a moment, and Genesis stripped.

Cloud opened fire where the vase had been, and Sephiroth was almost instantly coated in pink. It was matted in his hair, and was a perfect target for Cloud, who kept shooting at it.

Sephiroth grabbed a handful of his hair, looked at it and sent Cloud an anguished look. The ex-General pulled a "strategic retreat," going around Cloud so he couldn't see and then quickly rushing to the bathroom Angeal was in while Cloud's back was to him.

It wasn't until Cloud was done firing randomly everywhere that he stopped and thought. Something wasn't right. There had been something over _there, _and _there, _and earlier there had been— Cloud gasped, finally understanding.

He didn't have time to think about it though, shooting a few more times. He gave a mental shrug and stomped up and down on the pile of paint now on the floor. He'd have to wash his sneakers later. He paused, then, stepping away and crouching.

He fisted the paint mess and… something else, too. He could feel something like _jeans_ in his hand. He couldn't _see_ it, though.

…Invisible _clothing_?

Cloud's first instinct was to shy away and go hide, but he stubbornly pushed those feelings aside. He had to _stand up_ to this thing if he wanted to live a normal life, invisible human experiment or ghost or spirit or poltergeist in his home or not!

_Out of paintballs!_

The blond sprinted back to the safety of his fort to reload, leaving behind a snickering Zack and a _very _unhappy Genesis.

Genesis crossed his arms. He didn't mind his nudity—heh, the others _certainly _didn't mind it, either—but it was a bit cool in the mansion that day, and he would have preferred to be clothed.

"Why can't we kill him?" he asked grumpily.

"We can't kill him. He had yet to make a 'serious' attempt to harm us. _This _hardly—_why are you naked_?"

Angeal had returned from the bathroom, skin and facial hair still a little wet. He was staring at Genesis's ass, confused.

Genesis pointed to his clothing, and Angeal nodded slowly. The ex-SOLDIERs spoke slowly, trying to get his train of thought back. "…What…he's doing now hardly counts as anything we could kill him over. He's protected by _pillows_." Angeal snorted quietly, "and shooting his 'ghost' with a paintball gun."

The redhead frowned, shaking his head a little. He sighed and waved his hand, and they (sans Sephiroth) went back to where Cloud was.

Cloud could feel his heart throb in every part of his body. It was unpleasant, but it made him feel _alive_. He wasn't dead—not yet, anyway—and he could _fight_!

There was a subtle noise in the next room, but Cloud heard it. For a short while longer he continued firing with his impressive aim. Things broke, but he paid no attention to that. The gun kept recoiling and hitting him in the shoulder, but that was okay. He had a goal, and everything else didn't matter.

He paused, though, after a short while. There was a blob of floating paint to the right… but also two more to the left. It could only mean one thing, reinforcing what he had come up with back near that pile of invisible clothing.

_More than one ghost!_

_Holy shit!_

He was done with being careful—he closed his eyes, held his breath and just fired.

He could hear breaking glass and the loud _splats _of the paintballs as they hit and broke probably-priceless things. He had more important things to worry about, like the lack of his most secret weapons.

_Shit!_

He had left them in his room! He was all out of paintballs for good, too!

Cloud settled his helmet more firmly on his head, shoved a little bag in his pocket and took off for the stairs. The house was a multicolored wreck, but he focused instead on jumping over spilled glass and making sure each breath wasn't his last.

Sephiroth (by now clean and having his wet hair thrown over his shoulder) stood up from behind a couch and hurried after Cloud. He was getting something, and he had a feeling that whatever it was, it wasn't some childish toy. Zack and Angeal followed, but Genesis was busy bitching about the air conditioning; he was getting goosebumps, among other things.

Cloud was at the top of the stairs when he felt it—a tug on his shirt. It was _pulling _him. He took the bag out of his pocket and let the marbles inside fall to the floor.

Sephiroth's left foot went straight onto the _things _Cloud had just dropped, and he _completely _lost his balance. He pitched backwards so quickly he didn't even have time to react, and then he was rolling down the stairs in one painful mess. He fell with his arms and legs splayed out everywhere, getting a lock of hair caught on a banister. It ripped free of his skull, Sephrioth let out an abrupt, pained grunt, and that was that.

This was probably payback for all the times Cloud himself had fallen down the same stairs, the silver-haired man dully noted as he came to a rest, sprawled out on the marble of the floor. Genesis was laughing so hard he was surprised he hadn't pissed himself.

Cloud heard a few great thumps and was filled with accomplishment and pride. He had done it!

He scampered to his bedroom, took two of the big blue blobs sitting on the mattress and ran back into the hallway.

Tightening his hold on them (but not _too _much), Cloud made his way to the top of the stairs. It was dangerous, he knew, being in such a place. So many things could go so wrong. He gulped, carefully avoided the marbles and started down the staircase.

A marble a few steps down rolled to the left. There was only one thing that could have done that.

He threw both of his 'secret weapons,' giving an unfortunate awkward sort of trip as he did so. They went sailing down rather than horizontally, but that was okay. Because covered in nasty flour-and-water slop was a _leg_. Cloud froze.

The balloons he had filled with his clever concoction had burst on impact, and it was clearly a _leg _right there in front of him—

Cloud moved on instinct, lashing out with his foot. Zack's eyes widened and he clutched his crotch, crumpling.

Cloud went off. He kicked the wet, dripping thing on the steps over and over, feeling definite hardness beneath his sneakers. Zack, annoyed at the way the other three men in the room dragged themselves, ran or hopped up the stairs to come to his rescue (like he was a fucking _girl _or something!), reached out and grabbed Cloud's ankle. The blond fell, and the four SOLDIERs pounced.

_No one _hurt the Puppy. Hurt any of them.

Cloud struggled and screamed as his arms were pinned roughly. His neck was pressed against a step, and even though it hurt so bad he was nearly crying, he continued to scream and fight.

It felt like he was being crushed, as his legs were painfully held together and his arms jerked behind his back.

He was then lifted into the air. He was only dimly aware that he was being carried somewhere—his struggles and curses and thrashing took up much more of his attention.

Was this the end? Were they going to kill him now?

Cloud heard his sobbing like it was coming from someone else as he futilely tried to get free (it was one of those out-of-body experiences, for a second or two there. ...Did this mean he was really going to die?). He had done so _well_—he had made it hurt; for a second, he had actually thought he was going to win.

With a string of curses from the four men carrying him, Cloud was brought into his room and thrown onto the bed with such force that he struck his head against the wall. The door shut, and Cloud was left alone, for now.

* * *

One day left to live.

The bedroom door had, surprisingly, been unlocked. After what had happened the previous day, Cloud wouldn't have been surprised if his ghost—_no, ghosts, _he reminded himself—had locked him in his room to die.

He cautiously made his way out into the hallway. It was quiet, but not quiet in the abandoned-house way. Now there was _more _than one of those _things_ in his house. Maybe there had been more than one all along!

Cloud moseyed to the bathroom, throwing nervous glances over his shoulders. He shouldn't just be allowed to walk around like this—he had _waged war_! If anything, he should be a bag of bones in the freezer or something.

Anxious and trembling, Cloud peed, flushed the toilet and washed his hands. He closed his eyes tightly before looking at his reflection; he was afraid of what he'd see.

The '2' of yesterday had been scribbled off and replaced by the word 'ONE.' The ghost—_ghosts! _Cloud swore—had good grammar; the 'S' on 'DAYS' had been crossed out too.

One day.

Cloud was freaking _out_.

What did he do? He couldn't die—he had too much to live for! B-But he couldn't leave…

The blond leant his head against the door, overcome by a deep, desperate despair. What was he? A young, stupid blond up against two or more _ghosts._

Did he just roll over and die? Or did he continue to fight? Did he plead for forgiveness?

He had to do _something_.

Cloud left the bathroom with a determined expression plastered on his face. He marched all the way downstairs before he heard it.

There was a deep moan echoing through the house. It sounded close, but also not really.

What the fuck?

Genesis peeked around a corner, smiling and moaning, "Oooooooooh!"

Cloud twisted and nearly fell over himself as he looked around. He turned his head, trying to locate the source of the sounds. He wasn't having much luck, judging by his confused expression, Genesis noted gleefully.

The redhead stifled a chuckle. "Ooooooooh!" He was great at this disembodied-voice thing!

"Are you having an orgasm?"

Genesis choked and turned to Zack, who was giggling at him. The ex-Commander opened his mouth, then closed it and smiled. "…What if I was?"

Zack rolled his eyes and walked past him, giving the older man a light smack on the head. Genesis's eyes narrowed playfully, and aware that Cloud was right there and was listening closely, he pounced and tackled Zack.

Cloud heard a series of loud thumps and what sounded like a fleshy slap.

_What's going on!_

He didn't stick around to find out. Cloud fled to the kitchen. A full two-liter bottle of Pepsi was half-gone before Cloud stopped guzzling and felt calm enough to think. He gave a tremendous burp and sat in a chair, resting his flushed and sweaty forehead against the cool glass of the table.

If he wanted to live, he'd have to patch things up with his ghost—_ghosts. _What was he supposed to do?

Cloud scrunched his nose up as he thought hard. He stared at the bowl of fruit on the counter, and it came to him. He scampered out of the house.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

Genesis lounged in one of the now-destroyed rooms. He stared at the ceiling, head resting on the back of a couch.

Sephiroth said quietly, eyeing the redhead's bared throat, "I don't know."

"Why hasn't he left yet? I would think that it's obvious he can't win."

Even more quietly than before, the ex-General murmured, "I don't know."

The two men frowned. Cloud was a puzzle; that was for sure. If he was a scientist, why hadn't he done anything other than be a buffoon? What was really going through that empty head?

They didn't know the answers. Something was _off _about him. It couldn't be good.

Genesis sat up fully when Cloud returned, wielding a _tree branch_.

Cloud beamed. He remembered hearing it somewhere—olive branches meant peace. He had managed to rip it off a humongous olive tree on the back of the property. He held the thing out and waved it around a bit. He knew that Sephiroth had had a really long sword named Masamune; he pretended he was handling the legendary blade himself for a moment but forcibly brought himself back to the present. He couldn't afford to daydream.

"Um… hello?" he called eventually. This was ridiculous, but it had to be done. "…Ghosts? I'm Cloud… and I don't want us to fight! I come in peace!"

Zack, who was slowly eating an apple in the next room, poked his head into the entrance room and snorted. He gestured for Angeal, Angeal got Genesis and Sephiroth, and they all went up to the young man with the huge branch. It was getting dirt and a leaf or two on the ground.

"We got off on the wrong foot," Cloud said to the empty-but-not house. "I inherited the house from my Uncle Hojo." At the old man's name, the others tensed. "I don't mean you any harm, believe me! I'm sorry we're on such bad terms. So, uh, I guess we can just learn to live with each other? It actually doesn't seem like it would be that hard; I hear I'm a good roommate. So, now all the fighting can stop, and the countdown can stop too, right? I'm so happy we worked this out—"

The olive branch was ripped out of his hands. It went horizontal and then violently broke in half, as if someone had cracked it over their knee.

The message was clear.

Something ruthlessly gripped his spikes. Cloud grit his teeth and held in a squeak of pain. It was testing him, he knew.

"Seems like an empty promise to me, Cloudy," Zack said, tightening the fist he had in the boy's hair and tilting his head back. Cloud hadn't been able to hear him, but Zack liked to think that the slight widening of his eyes was because of his words.

Cloud stayed still and submitted as his scalp burned as if it was on fire. He stared at the ceiling, breath hitching a little when there was a sharp tug on a spike near his ear. Alright, so there was more than one near him. Okay.

Something—probably a ghostly hand—wrapped around his upper arm. Cloud forcibly jerked away, skittering a few paces away. He panted and stared at where he thought it—_they_—were.

Genesis smirked, and Angeal lowered his hand. No one was the least bit surprised that Cloud had moved away. How could they trust one thing he said? He was a nasty, lying _relative of Hojo's_. A scientist.

Cloud sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and wandered upstairs to get dressed. His posture was kept as unthreatening as possible. He'd just have to prove that he really didn't want to fight anymore. Even though he still wanted to kill them, they were stronger than he was. Better. He'd have to force down his pride if he wanted to live. Only one day left, after all.

He could do it.

If it was possible, Cloud's day was worse than the other recent ones. The ghosts were constantly _doing _things to him. Pulling his hair. Giving him little shoves. Moving things out of his reach when he tried to pick them up. He had made a plate of yummy rice he had found a packet of at the store, and in like some old, bad comedy, the bowl and come up off the table and had gotten him right in the face.

(All four had nearly died laughing at _that_.)

He was being _bullied_. But he put up with it, because he _had _to.

His panic steadily rose as the day went on. That damned moaning kept following him wherever he went. His nerves were stretched thin, and he got an eyeful of himself in a mirror as he passed by it; he was a complete, utter mess.

At one point, the house phone rang. Cloud eagerly picked it up, hoping that whoever it was had called to rescue him.

Instead, there was silence. Cloud frowned and pulled it away from his ear, peering at the little screen.

_Intercom._

Somewhere in the house… on one of the other handsets… one of his ghosts was _calling _him.

Feeling more of his sanity slowly falling away, Cloud raised the phone back to his ear.

"…H-H-Hello?" Cloud stuttered, voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

There was no answer, except for a slow, even exhale. The static tickled his ear. It happened twice before Cloud heard the dial tone.

Cloud was still for a moment, then shrieked and chucked it. It crashed into something but he paid it no mind.

What was he supposed to _do_? This. Was. Hopeless!

What Cloud ended up doing was heading for the kitchen. He was going to take a page out of Tifa's book.

Cloud really tried his best to not throw up as he stirred the good-smelling mix into the bowl. That would probably make things worse. He was nervous as he opened the oven, fearing he'd end up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. Things went smoothly, though, and when done he made everything look nice and carefully wrote a letter.

Hopefully this would work.

It was Sephiroth who noticed it first. His sense of smell was probably the sharpest, but he was really just constantly sniffing out these sorts of things. The ex-General rose from the bed he and Angeal were sleepily lounging in and stumbled downstairs like a zombie.

Angeal said something to him, but he was ignored. Sephiroth trotted into the kitchen, moving as if he was being pulled by a leash. The other three ex-SOLDIERs curiously followed him.

On the table was a plate of cookies. Freshly made, steaming, _chocolate chip _cookies. He was watching closely; a bit of melted chocolate ran out of the well where a chip had been and ran down the golden-brown outside of one of the cookies and onto the plate.

Sephiroth very nearly came in his pants.

Cloud sat at the table, hands folded. He did his very best to look small and innocent. With luck, they'd accept his gift. That was, if ghosts ate.

Sephiroth broke a cookie in half, barely noticing Cloud, who was watching the display with wide eyes, gripping the edge of the table.

A section of cookie disappeared, and Cloud trembled in his seat. This was so _weird_. He guessed the ghost must've opened its mouth once as it chewed because he got a brief glimpse of floating, wet, mashed-up cookie mess before it disappeared again. So, anything in the mouth of his ghost was invisible too, as long as their mouth was totally closed?

Interesting.

Sephiroth slowly ate the cookie, tilting his head and assessing Cloud's performance. Impressive. (Or maybe his standards had been lowered because for years he hadn't gotten any nutrition from sources other than the tube Hojo gave him.)

He noticed a paper lying next to the plate, and he picked it up after licking chocolate off his fingers. It was a note from Cloud. He snorted after reading it and passed it back to the others, who were trying to look at it.

_Dear Ghosts,_

_Hello. I hope you liked my cookies. I made them to show you that I really don't want to hurt you. See? Now you don't have to hurt me and we can be friends. So, you can forget about killing me at midnight or whatever. I'd be really grateful if you stopped hurting me, too. Thanks. I look forward to living with you—for a very, very , very long time._

_Your new friend,_

_Cloud Strife_

Zack giggled as he read it, making another crack about Cloud's intelligence. Genesis waved the paper a bit, getting Cloud's attention, and he ripped it up. He threw the little pieces right in Cloud's face; some got in his hair and stayed there.

Cloud went white with shock. All that hard work… _he was still going to die!_

He took off out of the kitchen, aware that his cookies were still being eaten. Tears pricked at his eyes but he wiped them away before they could fall.

He needed help!

A phone book was located in a drawer of some table in the parlor; Cloud opened it up to the yellow pages and put the smashed phone from earlier's batteries back in with shaking fingers.

His whole body shook, and he fought not to puke—nothinghedidwasworking—!

He saw an ad at the bottom of the page that said 'Enchanted Extermination Services.'

Cloud choked back a panicked sob and dialed. He was tense, waiting for a blow to come from somewhere. He shook hard as he felt a hand close around his neck. There wasn't any pressure, luckily. Cloud knew it wanted him to leave, but he _couldn't_! It wasn't his fucking fault!

"Hello, Enchanted Extermination Services," said a gruff voice. "How can I help ya?"

"You've gotta help me!" Cloud wailed, breath jerky and on the verge of tears. He quaked and sobbed a little as he felt another hand twist into his hair. "My house is haunted and I need you to come and get rid of the ghosts!" There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and Cloud flushed and cried, "_Please_!"

"We've got another crazy one!" yelled the voice, now sounding kind of far away. Someone in the background swore.

"I'm not crazy!" Cloud shouted, shivering again and feeling his heart stop as the fingers tightened, both in his hair and around his neck. "You need to help me!"

"Look, man," the guy on the phone said. "We get rid of _roaches_, alright? I don't have time for this. Have a nice day."

There was a click, and Cloud heard the dial tone. His mouth fell open, and he stared at the phone.

One of the ghosts grabbed his shoulder, and Cloud lost it. He turned and swung wildly, putting his fear, panic and hatred into one furious punch, which connected. Angeal barely winced, but Zack slapped Cloud for it anyway.

Cloud gasped, put a hand to his stinging cheek and tried to lash out with his feet. He was abruptly released and only hit air.

…It was impossible to win this.

When eight o'clock rolled around, Cloud was about to kill himself.

Nothing had improved. Every attempt of his to be nice failed.

His cuts from crawling in the window had re-opened. His bandages were dirty and dark red from drying blood. He couldn't be bothered enough to change it. He was limping; he had 'tripped' over a footstool earlier.

He was being tormented, plain and simple.

(What Cloud didn't know was that he wasn't the only one feeling nervous. No matter what they did, _Cloud wouldn't leave_. He must've been crazy, because even though they had resorted to petty pushes and cheap hits, he was still there. None of them knew what they were going to do for day zero; they hadn't gotten that far when they had started planning. They had thought that Cloud would have fled the mansion by now. Stubborn little fucker.)

His nerves were completely shot, and he fingered the knife in his pocket. He could do it… and he wouldn't have to deal with this shit anymore.

He collapsed on the couch, trembling and throbbing. He had been steadily making his way through a bag of Chex Mix for the past half-hour, finding some minor comfort in eating.

Cloud curled into a ball, fingers tracing the blade through the fabric of his pants.

It could all be over. Done with. He'd be at peace.

With a shaky sob, Cloud cursed at himself. How was he giving up so easily? He couldn't _kill himself_—he was young and had too much to live for.

He reached into his other pocket, tugging out his cell phone with fingers that ached. He continued to shake. He wasn't cold.

It rang slowly, and the tears started to fall. If Aerith didn't answer…

"_Hello?"_

"A-Aerith?" Cloud choked, relief washing over him. "Thank you for a-answering."

His friend could instantly tell something was wrong. _"Cloud?" _she asked, calmly but also a little bit worriedly, _"What's wrong?"_

The Invisibles watched him warily. Calling his friend? What was he up to?

Cloud giggled sadly, sniffling but not wiping his tears away. "Nothing… it's just that my house is _haunted!_"

Genesis rolled his eyes.

"…_Haunted?" _Aerith repeated. _"Cloud, are you okay?"_

"_No, _Aerith, "I'm not fucking fine! I'm bleeding all over and covered in bandages! I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since I go here! I'm being hunted down by _ghosts! _Do I sound _fine _to you?"

Aerith was speechless for a moment. Then she said in a soft voice, _"Cloud, you need to calm down._"

"I can't _calm down_!"

"_Try. Take a deep breath and let it out for me."_

Cloud nearly snapped at her to stop treating him like he was five, but Aerith always knew what was best for him, and he followed her orders.

He felt a little bit less hysterical after that, and Aerith said seriously, _"Talk to me, Cloud."_

"I _hate_ it here!" he wailed, panic and fear returning. "I want to go _home_, Aerith!"

"What the fuck?" Zack sighed, at the end of his patience. "Then go the fuck home!"

Sephiroth, who was eating a bag of trail mix, sucked on an M&M and studied Cloud with narrowed eyes. Something wasn't right. Genesis frowned, then pulled a few peanuts out of Sephiroth's bag.

"He's allergic, isn't he?" he asked the other three. He got a nod from Angeal after a moment, and he stealthily walked around the couch Cloud was lying on and dropped them into Cloud's bag of food. He smiled at the others. "Maybe after he throws up a few times he'll leave us."

"_Then come back to Midgar!" _Aerith sounded bewildered.

"I _can't_!" Cloud sobbed, shoving a handful of Chex Mix in his mouth. He chewed without really tasting anything and burst, "I'm being _blackmailed _by Tseng!"

"_Who's Tseng!"_

"Hojo's lawyer or something! He's the one who told me Hojo left me the mansion."

Aerith still sounded confused, so Cloud told her everything. How Tseng was making him stay by threatening to give him the bill. How Tseng _knew _people. How it wouldn't be safe for him to _breathe _if he left the house. Tseng would _kill_ him.

Through his sobs and tremors, he explained everything that had happened so far—the shower, pool, old lady floating, Sebastian and the war of the previous day.

Aerith was quiet as she listened to his crazy tale. Cloud told her about how he had only met Hojo a few times, and how stupid he had been to accept a whole mansion just like that, even though he wouldn't have been in Midgar anymore.

He kept eating Chex Mix as he spilled everything to the flower girl. He was a mess, but he _didn't care_, because there was _one day left _and—

A sharp pain hit him in the stomach. Cloud winced, and let the bag of food fall to the floor.

"…_Cloud," _Aerith said seriously, processing everything, _"I'm driving up there. You need to promise me you won't do anything… _bad _before I get there."_

The four ex-SOLDIERs stood behind the couch, completely still. The trail mix fell from Sephiroth's limp grip.

Cloud was…

…_Innocent?_

Cloud took several big gulps of air, clutching his stomach with the hand that wasn't holding the phone. Great—now he was hyperventilating. Perfect.

"I'll come pick you up," he rasped through a surprisingly sore throat. "You don't need to drive."

Cloud shivered. His throat was tingling. He blinked slowly.

"_Okay. But _promise me_, Cloud. Don't do anything stupid. You can get through this."_

Each breath was hurting. It felt like he was going to be sick. Cloud wasn't stupid—he knew the symptoms of an allergy attack when he had one. He abruptly hung up with Aerith and tried to stand. He caught sight of his arm—hives everywhere.

Cloud sucked air, stumbling to the stairs.

_Oh, fuckfuckfuck—_

He fell to his knees and threw up halfway there. The pain in his gut was awful, but he surged to his feet and continued on his way. He wiped his now-runny nose with the back of his hand, feeling dizzy and swaying about five steps up the staircase.

Cloud only made it a third of the way upstairs before he collapsed. He threw up again, and was just able to roll away from it.

He could hear footsteps. Footsteps and cursing.

Cool hands were on his cheeks, and Cloud turned his head weakly into a palm, eyes drifting shut.

Whoever it was was yelling at him, asking him something… he wasn't sure what.

The ambulance had arrived already? That was weird... he didn't remember calling. But he knew what they were asking for. Probably.

"Epipen," he croaked, not aware that he was starting to go into shock. "Bedside table… emergency card's in…wallet. Dresser."

The cool hands left him and he heard pounding footsteps go upstairs. Different hands were on him then, but Cloud didn't try to find out who it was. The darknesss that had been filling his vision grew and swallowed him whole.

...It seemed the ghosts had won.

He was going to die.


	11. A State of Emergency

**WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH ! ...(not! haha, gotcha! Don't even lie and say you weren't scared.)**

**Tobi: ! GUYS WE GOT 150 REVIEWS FOR LAST CHAPTER I LOVE YOU ALL~ Okay so I'll make this short. secretwishes527 was reviewer number 650, Naruta13 was 700, and Cathidean was 750. Thanks guys! And thanks to all the anonymous reviewers. I wish I could reply to you guys, but I can't. So, here's one big, collective THANK YOU!** **Ah: please forgive any OOC on the Invisibles' parts here. They're going through some stuff, if you guys haven't noticed. So forgive them. XD**

**CM: hey all! so we got 150 reviews! that is colossal! dude you all rock! all my lurkers *waves* thank you for unlurking! i love you for that! and my anons! i thank you too since i cant really reply to you all. again be proud of me every one i replied to all 130ish signed reviews in a matter of 4 hours! and guess what i learned...you can only send 100 PMs per day. so i tried to send PM number 101 and it denied me! i was like WTF? luckily i had a second account that i could use...and its penname is also CloudedMirror so it was ok. i honestly think that im the only one to ever have sent so many PMs. hah! and as a side note. now that you all have read the war...are there any artists out there willing to draw for us? i know im requesting fan art ...but some scenes i would kill to see drawn out. anyone? please? and i think i replied to everyone. but if i didnt im sorry! and if i accidentally replied to you twice...sorry bout that. but its hard PMing 130 ppls. but you all are totally worth it! ok now you may read. enjoy!**

* * *

Staring down at the flushed, ill face of Cloud Strife made Sephiroth finally realize the gravity of what they had done.

_Tortured _an innocent. Lost control. Acted dishonorably. What had they _done_?

There wasn't time to think about that.

Cloud was dying.

Sephiroth watched Zack's back disappear upstairs for a brief second and turned to his other two lovers. Angeal was staring at Cloud with wide eyes, guilt almost oozing out of his pores. He set his jaw though and locked gazes with Sephiroth—the ex-Commander knew what he'd have to do.

Genesis was staring at Cloud; he gave a visual shudder and took a small step back. That wouldn't do.

Going into immediate General-Mode, Sephiroth barked at Angeal, "Angeal. Get a book about peanut allergies from the library."

Angeal took off.

Sephiroth gently placed the shaking, gasping boy's head on the step and walked down a few steps to Genesis. Genesis didn't even register anything when Sephiroth called in a voice that would have made Cadets shit their pants, "Genesis!"

After trying once more, Sephiroth slapped Genesis' cheek and thundered, "Snap out of it, SOLDIER!" He needed Genesis alert if they didn't want to be guilty every minute for the rest of their lives.

Genesis finally looked at him, looking lost and broken. The redhead was most likely suffering tremendous guilt, as he had been the one to come up with the idea of giving Cloud peanuts, but they could all think about it later. Right now… they had to _move_.

"Carry Cloud," he ordered.

Genesis took another step backwards and shook his head mutely, pale as a ghost. Funny, that comparison was.

A look that could have frosted the sun made Genesis stumble forward and gather the frail, trembling body on the steps into his arms. Cloud's breath was quick and labored, and Genesis felt like he had hives of his own after looking at Cloud's.

"Elevate his legs," Sephiroth instructed, standing and striding towards one of the secret entrances of the lab—the closest one being a secret door on the side of the staircase Cloud had collapsed on.

Sephiroth reached out and stuck a finger in a small, almost unnoticeable groove in the wall under the steps. A small rectangle-shaped portion of drywall flipped open, revealing a tiny keypad. Sephiroth quickly jabbed in a long, complicated series of numbers. The previously-hidden door in the wall opened by itself, mechanically—and _slowly_—swinging open with a hiss of hydraulics.

An alarm rang out, loud enough that Angeal could hear it in the library as he frantically scanned the spines of books. But that was the point—no matter where they were in the house, they would've been able to know if Cloud had tried to sneak into the labs.

As it turned out, they shouldn't have bothered.

Sephiroth walked inside and ripped the wires out of the alarm. Genesis stumbled in after him, taking care to keep Cloud's head away from the edges of the doorway but somehow smacking it anyway.

Like he did it all the time, Sephiroth strode into the laboratory. Genesis, however, got a good look at the familiar metal table and the aged half-full tank of Mako in the corner and seized up.

Sephiroth was already pulling things out of cabinets. He sensed that his lover hadn't moved and paused for just enough time to send him a look that said, '_I know, and now is not the time. Do you _want _him to die?'_

Cloud's gasping body was deposited on the examining table. Genesis sucked in a few deep breaths and told himself to just _calm down_, because he couldn't help anybody if he was panicking, but it was all _his fault—_

Angeal and Zack skidded into the room at the same time. Zack had Cloud's EpiPen and wallet in his hands, and Angeal carried a thick book, which he immediately opened on the low, metal counter and starting pouring over it. It was really a shame Materia didn't work on things like this.

Sephiroth announced to them all, "He is suffering from anaphylaxis, which is related to having a severe allergic reaction." He then commanded Zack, "Lower his legs. Jab the EpiPen into his thigh, inject the medication, then massage."

Zack's face was white with terror and his pretty light blue eyes were wide, but he set his jaw—ever the determined one, their puppy—and nodded.

The room was a chaotic flurry of movement. Angeal abandoned the book in favor of hooking up a heart monitor and IV. He did this with deft, sure fingers—he had _learned_ in his time with Hojo, and even earlier with Hollander.

Genesis let go of Cloud's feet and lowered them gently onto the table. Cloud was still unconscious and limp, but he was breathing harshly through a swollen and closing throat. Zack fisted the EpiPen and stabbed it needle down into Cloud's thigh, wincing as he did so. Sephiroth pulled on Genesis's shoulder as Zack pulled the needle out of Cloud and directed him over to a clear liquid. They only had ten to twenty minutes before the effects of the epinephrine wore off.

"Benadryl," he informed him, tossing him Cloud's wallet and pulling more things out of a different cabinet. "Five milligrams for every ten pounds of body weight. No more than seventy-five milligrams total."

Genesis gave a sharp nod and began measuring out the indicated anthistimine.

The four men worked like a well-oiled machine. Quietly, effectively. Zack nearly wept with relief when the dangerous flush on Cloud's cheeks faded a little and his breathing came more easily.

While Zack massaged Cloud's thigh, Angeal bustled around making sure the vitals machines were working properly and getting the IV ready for Genesis. Genesis had measured out sixty-five milligrams for Cloud's 130 pounds as specified on his emergency card (_so light?_) and set it up with still-shaking fingers.

Sephiroth had a small machine in his hands. A nebulizer. They all hated them. Angeal saw that Cloud's heart wasn't beating erratically and went back to reading the book.

After explaining absently as he worked that the medicine that they would mist to Cloud was called albuterol, Sephiroth bent over Cloud and fixed the little mask in place. Cloud breathed in, letting out a small, soft, pained whimper afterwards. The four men froze, and Zack actually stopped breathing for a second. But Cloud's eyes stayed closed, and he didn't make another noise. They were tempted to sag on the floor with exhaustion now—because with luck, Cloud was getting better, even though he looked so small and hurt and tortured and sick lying there—but they couldn't.

Angeal was back at the book now, fingers twitching as he read. He started fishing through cabinets with just as much vigor as Sephiroth had earlier. Zack switched the albuterol with oxygen once all the medicine had been administered, getting a brief nod from Sephiroth for his insight.

Genesis was getting impatient. Was Cloud going to die? "One-eighty systolic? Sephiroth? What do we do now?"

"I'm on it," Angeal replied, opening a new syringe.

Angeal drew an antihypertensive into the syringe. It would help to lower Cloud's blood pressure some and soothe the inflamation in his lungs. Cloud would be able to breathe more easily, with luck. He approached Cloud, Genesis and Zack moved aside for him, and he stuck the new needle (with more grace than Zack's wild stab earlier with the EpiPen) into Cloud's thigh.

After that Angeal absently threw the syringe in a rusted, old metal trashcan in the corner. All four crowded around the table, pressing close to Cloud and refusing to look at one another.

Angeal glanced at the heart monitor. The erratic heartbeat from before had already calmed some, but it was still too irregular for comfort. His blood pressure had also come down considerably.

"…Now we wait," Sephiroth said quietly. According to the book, they had to wait for a second reaction. Cloud should have been in a hospital, not on a torture table being treated by the ones who had almost _killed _him—

There wasn't _time _for that. There wasn't a hospital in Nibelheim; by the time an ambulance came from a bigger town nearby Cloud would already be dead.

Minutes ticked by in silence, each of them paying close attention to Cloud's every movement, every labored breath. But before long, Cloud's breathing went back to almost normal, and he seemed to relax a little in his unconscious state.

He would live.

All four sagged. Zack actually slumped to the floor, panting a little. Angeal gave a helpless little chuckle, removing the oxygen mask and brushing Cloud's damp, messy bangs off his forehead.

Genesis gazed at Cloud for a minute, well aware what had almost happened. His eyes widened before narrowing to slits and he swept out of the lab, slamming the secret door shut behind him.

Cloud's steady breathing was calming. Sephiroth sat in a metal stool a few feet from the bed, tense and ready to fly into action if there was a sign that Cloud's condition was worsening. The room was silent, save for the steady soft blip-ing of the heart monitor and the occasional rasp or cough from the boy.

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor. The other three had left the room a while ago. He probably should have been worried about them, and he probably should have been comforting them somehow, but for once, he didn't know what to do.

It would have been an understatement to say he was embarrassed.

He was deeply ashamed. Since birth, he had been raised to be perfect. He was calm. He analyzed everything to determine the best and most effective outcome. His emotions—even though he was not supposed to have any, according to Hojo—were never supposed to cloud his judgment.

He had been an exquisite General.

Now, he was a disgrace. A failure.

Cloud mumbled something in his sleep, and Sephiroth slowly rose from his seat. He leaned over the bed, looking down into the blond's strained and haggard face.

It pained him to see the bluish yellow bruise marring the boy's cheek. How many times had they hit him? Pushed him down the stairs? Threw things at him? Sephiroth hadn't been keeping count, but he feared the number.

Now that he knew the truth, it was painfully obvious that Cloud had been innocent. He was a little bit _too _clueless, a little bit _too _'dumb.' And that 'war' of yesterday! Cloud had honestly been trying to fight _them_ even though there had maybe been a point zero zero one chance of success.

He still had questions, of course, (like why Cloud had mako that one time, though it was a possibility that he was just _looking _at it) but he could wait for his answers.

Sephiroth spent a minute looking at Cloud. A weight dropped in his stomach at the sight of Cloud's hands. They were scratched and crusted with dried blood.

Sephiroth gently picked up the hand to inspect it. He could see small shards of glass embedded in the flesh and he vaguely remembered how the brave little blond had climbed through the window when they had locked him out. His stomach churned.

He hardly ever said it, but he thought it was needed. Sephiroth leant down enough that his bangs pooled on Cloud's neck, chest and face and whispered into his ear, "I am sorry."

Stepping back, Sephiroth went back to the cabinets and pulled out some cotton, a small brown bottle and small sterilized tweezers. He went to a different cabinet and looked for a small basin for water, a soft cotton cloth and bandages.

Putting the materials on a small, rolling table, he carted it over to Cloud's bed. He dipped the cloth in the warm water and began washing Cloud's hands. He made sure not to stretch the boy's injured hands out too much; he had already been put through more pain than was ever necessary.

After he was done washing away the dirt and blood, Sephiroth carefully pulled out all the glass shards. He wet the cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and applied it to the injured palms and knuckles.

As soon as the chemical touched the broken flesh it began hissing and foaming angrily at him. Sephiroth cringed when Cloud whimpered softly and tried to pull his hand away.

When it had been properly cleaned, Sephiroth bandaged the hand and went around the table to do the next. He knew that a couple bandages would never make up for what they had done to the poor boy, but right now it was the least he could do. ...If Cloud never forgave them, he wouldn't blame him.

After an hour, when Cloud was no longer at risk, Sephiroth disconnected everything carefully. He scooped Cloud up, taking care to keep him comfortable. He took a step towards the door, but paused. There was something in Cloud's pocket, the one near his knee—Cloud was wearing some kind of cargo pants and had pockets everywhere.

Sephiroth's heart broke as he pulled out a short, sharp knife.

Had they really been that awful?

_Yes, _he thought sadly, gently placing the knife on the counter, _we were._

He carried Cloud out of the room and back into the main part of the mansion. He laid Cloud on his bed and placed Sebastian on the pillow beside his head after seeing a tuft of yellow sticking out of a dresser drawer.

He ran his fingers through the resting boy's hair, trying to soothe him a little. They had pulled and yanked on his hair how many times? Sephiroth's heart ached. He drew away and took several steps back.

He gave Cloud a last, sorrowful look and left the room.

_

* * *

_

_Ouch, ouch, ouch._

Zack's thighs burned and shook, but that was okay. He didn't bother wiping the sweat on his forehead away, and he had to blink rapidly to keep it out of his eyes.

He had been working out for the past... he couldn't remember. Probably a while.

Zack dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups. His arms were shaking; how long had he been doing this? It took a hell of a lot to make _him _tired.

Then he was up again, doing squats. He lost himself in the motions and in the controlled breathing. If he stopped, he would start thinking. He didn't want to think right now.

Crunches. Zack's abs were screaming at him, but he ignored them. He deserved the pain. He counted to two-hundred and flipped over, doing push-ups again.

He was on the tennis court. His clothes and hands were stained green by this point, but that was the least of his worries. Angeal had been walking around near the house earlier, but he didn't see him anymore. He wondered what his tallest lover was doing.

More squats. Zack breathed deeply to cope with the stitch in his side, but it wasn't really working. Not that he cared. His eye stung as sweat dripped into it. Zack kept the squats going.

Anger was the only thing he felt when his legs gave out. He lay on his back for a while, gasping and coughing and trying to get his breath back.

He more or less calmed down after a couple of minutes (the benefits of Mako!) and stared up at the sky. It was a pretty blue—very few...clouds...in the sky...

The whole point of his working out was to distract himself. Now that he was still, he couldn't put it off any longer. Zack spread out, hearing some sort of bug scuttle around near his head; he ignored it.

Alright, so they had fucked up. Badly.

...What had he been thinking? Zack cringed as he remembered all the things they—_he—_did. He had slapped Cloud. Beat him up. Made him cry, more than once.

_The sounds of crying made eight-year-old Zack poke his head out the front door. It was hot in Gongaga that day, and he had been lying in front of a box fan, reading a comic. The heat hit him in full force now that he was outside, but he had more important things to think about._

_A small boy—maybe five or six—was on his knees on the ground, crying into his hands as a group of slightly older boys jeered at him._

_Zack processed this in an instant and then was running straight for the kids. He skidded to a halt between the felled boy and the others, holding his arms out._

"_Leave him alone!"_

_The boys (who Zack recognized as kids in his grade at school) looked confused, then laughed at him._

"_Move, Zack," said a boy on the left._

_Zack frowned. He glared at them when they tried to get closer and repeated himself. "Leave him _alone_!"_

_The little boy on the ground sniffed and looked up at Zack with wet, admiring eyes. Zack caught it and turned back to the bullies, feeling empowered._

"_Zack!" one of them grunted, annoyed. Zack was well-liked by everyone, and that might have been the reason why the boys weren't attacking—not just yet, anyway._

_Standing so the little boy couldn't see, Zack flashed the bullies the middle finger. Hah! He had known what that meant for years; these boys looked shocked._

_One whispered to another, "That means...?"_

"_Yeah! Danny told me that!"_

"_No, it means..."_

_Zack waited patiently, and when the others worked out what insult Zack was giving them, they charged him. Zack gladly fought. It was rough and dirty—four versus one—but Zack was driven by the need to protect that poor little kid. He punched Timmy right in the stomach and shoved David so hard he fell, scraped up his knee and started bawling._

_Two hits connected; one on Zack's collarbone, and another on his arm. He shrugged the pain off though, easily taking care of the other two boys._

_When it was clear Zack had won, he barked, "Take a hike! And don't lemme catch you bothering people again!"_

_With angry mumbles, the defeated boys dragged themselves home. Zack turned and held out a hand to the kid on the ground._

"_T-Thank you," he said quietly, staring at him like one would a professional Chocobo racer or something. _

_Zack grinned. "Hey! No problem." he smiled, glanced at the other boys as they walked away and made a face. _

"_I hate bullies."_

"_Me too," the boy—Kenneth—sniffed. _

_Zack gave Kenneth a little push towards home and said, "If you're ever in trouble again, lemme know. I'll scare 'em away again for ya."_

_That night, Zack's dreams were full of himself saving people from bullies—a real hero. That's what he'd be when he was older—one of the good guys that never, ever let evil win._

"_Hey!" the SOLDIER First barked. The guilty party froze, knowing they'd been caught._

_Zack briskly strode towards the scene, boots banging and echoing in the otherwise-empty hallway._

_A Cadet was standing against the wall before the group of bigger, stronger Cadets. The gratitude in his eyes almost made Zack smile, but he covered it up and frowned sternly._

"_Cadets!"_

_All of them stood at attention. Zack turned his angry gaze on the troublemakers. "My office, 1900 hours!" They nodded, and he growled, "Get the hell out of my sight."_

_The almost-victim started to scurry away too, but Zack grabbed his arm._

"_Hey man, you alright?"_

_The Cadet nodded. _

_Zack gave him a serious look and said, "Don't let them push you around." People had to stand up for themselves in this world—and especially in Shin-Ra's world. It was his job as a Commanding Officer to make sure these kids grew, could be strong and be SOLDIERs themselves someday. He had a feeling this kid would make sure he wasn't put in the same situation again._

_The Cadet gave a solemn nod, saluted, mumbled 'thanks' and left. Zack watched him go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He walked away, whistling. _

_Zack swung the bloody sword onto the harness on his back, too exhausted to clean it. He was covered in dirt and monster blood, and the villagers seemed to really like that. They were cheering for him._

_He tiredly waved at the people as he approached. They cheered and swarmed him as he entered the village, touching him and patting him on the back._

"_The monsters are gone," Zack laughed; everyone seemed to have gotten that already._

_One girl kissed his cheek (Sephiroth's expression when he told him about it was hilarious). Another girl told him flat-out that he was her hero, after protecting the town like that._

_He blushed and scratched his head. He supposed that... now he was. He was a real hero now, capable of saving people and protecting the innocent. Smiling widely at the girl, Zack's heart swelled and he nodded._

_It was a nice thing to know._

Sprawled out on the tennis court, Zack felt like he was going to throw up.

_What happened to me?_

Even as a kid, he had known what he wanted to be. A hero. That was why he had joined SOLDIER. And what was he now? He was just as bad—no, _worse—_than a group of little bullies or a gang of bad Cadets.

Cloud... the poor kid... innocent! _Innocent! _The guy had moved there, been blackmailed by Tseng to stay there, and had been tortured by them.

Zack wanted to go apologize to him over and over and over and give him a hug and apologize some more. But Cloud was asleep right now, recovering. They had almost _killed _him.

They were definitely the bullies, now. Zack snorted at his own understatement. They were fucking _invisible. _The poor kid couldn't even fight back properly. All other bullies that Zack had encountered were at least confronting their victims head on. And what had they done? They snuck around and used the kid's weaknesses against him.

Pain shot through Zack's stomach. How... had this happened?

Zack felt like he was drowning. He took several deep breaths, not able to breathe. It didn't help, though—nothing would right now.

Cloud wouldn't want to forgive him. He didn't deserve the forgiveness, either.

Zack curled into a ball, staring dully out at the mountains. ...What would his parents say, if they could see him now? Their bright, nice, happy son. The one who stood up for his friends. The (now dead, or so they thought) SOLDIER. The hero.

Zack grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. _I am... the worst._

* * *

For a period of his life, Angeal devoted every spare moment to 'working' with Sephiroth. The man had been showing signs of a depression he wasn't even aware of ever since things in Wutai had really started to heat up.

He kept saying the same things over and over: "We aren't monsters, Sephiroth."

To his relief, Sephiroth seemed to lose that dark look in his eyes. Genesis' own special brand of cheering-up had the General smiling daily.

No matter what Hojo said to them, no matter how many people they killed in Shin-Ra's honor, and no matter how _different, _how _odd _and _tinkered-with _the three of them were, they _were not _monsters. Sephiroth had always been fond of calling himself that.

Zack had then entered their already-unconventional relationship, and Angeal was so happy to have such a bouncy, energetic, fun man with them. Sephiroth's mood improved again. Zack was silly but was more than capable of being strong and serious, and he fit right in.

They were 'unique,' that was for sure. But Angeal had managed to convince Sephiroth that they were perfectly fine that way. Still, he readily offered his lover reassurance when he looked like he needed it.

Now, _Angeal _was the one who needed reassuring.

He was on his knees in the mulchy dirt of one of the extravagant flowerbeds around the outside of the mansion. He had a handful of pink yarrows in his hand. He had lovingly cared for them and the rest of the flowers in the garden, saying in his mind that he was helping create life and was taking care of something precious and fragile—how could he ever be anything but human?

Angeal clenched his fist and ripped the yarrows out of the earth.

He flipped backwards onto his butt and stared at the remaining flowers.

There was never in the world a bigger hypocrite than he.

Wasn't he always talking about his honor? 'Protect your honor' had been his fucking mantra back at Shin-Ra!

Protecting his lovers had been his main priority. But when had 'take care of the threat' become 'haha, he's in pain! Let's make him feel _more_!'

If anyone was a monster, it was him.

He should have known better. Why hadn't they performed a background check or something? It made sense that they had thought Cloud was a scientist, but immediately hurting him? _Torturing him! _Angeal had never tortured anyone before in his life—he had flat-out refused Shin-Ra when they tried to send him on a mission where he had to extract information 'through any means necessary.'

When up against the Buster Sword, your death was _quick_. Drawing things out wasn't his style.

But... look at what he had done to Cloud! That poor, poor boy. His hand tingled; he had tried to _strangle _Cloud with it!

Angeal leant forward again and pressed his forehead and hair into the dirt. He sat up after a few seconds and blindly reached out, ripping handfuls of his precious flowers out the ground and throwing them in every direction.

His rage wasn't directed anyone other than himself—_he_ was the one to blame here—_he _had been the one to completely lose himself and be blinded by his hatred for Hojo...

Angeal grabbed and tore, getting sprayed with dirt but not caring. The roots futilely tried to cling to where it was safe, but his enhancements let him easily destroy (see? He _was _a fiend! All the times he had tried to assure Sephiroth he shouldn't have talked—he was the awful one, out of all of them).

When a good portion of the once-beautiful garden was sufficiently demolished, Angeal stopped. Mulch and dirt was everywhere, splattering the side of the house and caked in his clothing.

His skin crawled and felt too tight for his body, like he was being squeezed. Angeal panted, everything he had ever known about himself proving to be a farce.

_MonsterMonsterMonster—_

Angeal stood and stumbled towards the back of the house. Everything burned, from his breath to his skin to his heart.

He jumped—but it was more like fell—into the pool. The water was somehow bitterly cold, numbing him but not taking care of the burning all over.

_MonsterMonsterMonster—_

He had always prided himself on his levelheadedness and how he always did what was right. But now...

Angeal shivered and shook. He didn't try to warm up, though, standing in the pool with his freezing clothing sticking to him.

How could he look at that poor boy again?

How could he look at his _lovers _again?

_...I'm so sorry. I failed you all._

Angeal stayed in the water for a long time, not moving even when it grew dark and his lips turned blue from the cold.

* * *

Having someone to pull his hair back would have been really nice, Genesis thought bitterly as he heaved into the toilet. Copper strands were stuck to his sweaty face and were in his eyes, and it was more than a little irritating.

Genesis' stomach clenched and he vomited again. He was dressed in only his underwear and a t-shirt, as he had shed the pants earlier (they had been too constricting, too _much_, and even now he felt like he could explode—).

He was not in a good mood. He was in a very, very _bad _mood. He was throwing up, shivering and falling apart, and he didn't know _why_. He hadn't had a cold or anything recently, and...

The real reason was strikingly obvious, bu he didn't want to acknowledge it. If there was one thing Genesis Rhapsodos had, it was his pride.

He didn't say he was sorry. He didn't regret anything, because he was a SOLDIER and was smart and strong and _didn't have to._

But...

Genesis's fingers clutched at the toilet seat, and he puked again. It burned; he was running out of things in his stomach and a bit of stomach acid was starting to come up.

...Alright—he could come to terms with this. So... Cl—_Strife—_was...innocent.

Innocent.

Genesis thought about that. This meant that...

Well, it meant that Cloud was _innocent_. It meant that everything they had done to him, thinking that they needed to be rid of him and had to protect each other, had been for naught.

Cloud _wasn't _a scientist. Cloud _wasn't_ there to kill them. He had beat this man up for no reason.

_I'm not the one to blame!_

Genesis threw up again.

Really—he wasn't! Cloud had had it coming to him, being a relative of Hojo's and all. And he had Mako that one time! What was he _supposed _to think? Anyone else in the world would have done the exact same thing, had they been in his shoes.

How was he supposed to know that Cloud would have such a... violent reaction to peanuts, anyway? It had all been in good fun—Cloud had been a threat, and he thought that if he made him a little sick, he'd _finally _leave them alone.

_It was far more than making him 'a little sick.'_

Genesis curled his fingers around the cool porcelain and gave a clogged sort of hiccup. What the hell was he _doing_? Was he really such a brat that he was incapable of accepting the blame for something?

Sometimes, Genesis really hated himself.

No... No, it wasn't Cloud's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault that he had gotten out of control—just like in his old spars with Sephiroth—but... his.

His fault.

That was the truth, wasn't it? He was the one who had hurt Cloud the most. It seemed his fiercely protective streak had been a bad thing, or at least for Cloud it had been.

He was the one to blame—not the other three. _Him_.

Genesis flopped back onto the floor, pressing his burning cheek against the cool floor. He felt lighter, less ill, more at ease.

But incredibly guilty, too.

At least his body wasn't beating itself up anymore. He had admitted it to himself, and he felt better. Sort of.

Flushing the toilet and standing, Genesis spat twice into the sink and left the bathroom. He didn't really know where he was going, but his feet eventually led him to a familiar room.

_...Shit._

Cloud was lying in bed, still asleep. He suspected that Sephiroth had brought him up from the lab—after the boy's recovery seemed likely, he had stomped off and had sat on the roof until being driven down to the bathroom so he could lose his lunch out of self-disgust. Angeal and Zack weren't in the house, and he didn't know where they were (He remembered seeing Zack stomping around outside, though. Poor Puppy; Genesis wished he could be with him right now).

Genesis crawled onto the bed and hovered above Cloud, gazing down.

"_Aww… I made him cry," Genesis cooed nastily, actually on all fours directly above Cloud. _

He choked on his own spit, guilt tearing a painful gash in his gut. Cloud looked helpless and sad and so _beat-up _lying there like that, and Genesis felt nothing but hatred for himself.

It wouldn't do for anyone to come in and see him like this, half-naked and probably looking like he was about to kill the blond. It wouldn't do for Cloud to wake up and feel the choppy, shallow breaths on his face and freak out.

He had to leave.

Genesis swallowed thickly and got off the bed, moving carefully so that he didn't wake Cloud up with his movements. In the doorway he turned around and stared at Cloud. His stomach felt better, but nothing else did. Genesis left.

* * *

"Hey! He's waking up!"

Cloud's return to consciousness was not very pleasant. Usually he woke calmly and nicely, gently waking and lying in bed blissfully for a few minutes before getting up. Today, however, he opened crusty eyes and was nearly blinded by the sunlight streaming in his window.

He felt...bad. Achy. Gross. And...sore? He was exhausted and pulsing with some faint phantom pain, especially in his right thigh.

If Cloud had been able to see the four men that were leaning over the bed and were inches away from his face, he would have been even more alarmed than he already was.

The Invisibles quietly commented on him to each other, taking in the still ill-looking face and apparent tiredness. They were grateful Cloud's unenhanced ears couldn't hear what they were saying.

Sebastian was on the pillow next to his head; Cloud hugged his friend and rolled over onto his side.

What... had happened?

When had he gone to lay down? Cloud's mind was spotty—he didn't remember much. He remembered the war just fine, and he remembered his failed attempts to make friends with the ghosts. He remembered calling Aerith and.. what?

He felt sick and his nose was running. Cloud was warm and cozy under the covers with Sebastian, but he needed to get a tissue. He got up stiffly with a groan and rubbed his eyes.

The house was dead silent, and Cloud's harsh breathing as he stumbled down the hallway seemed exceptionally loud. Cloud tripped and almost fell into the wall once, but Zack, eyes wide and sad, gingerly let Cloud bump against his side and gently righted him with a push to the shoulder. Cloud didn't even notice.

The sight of the toilet made Cloud's whole body tremble. He managed to drop to his knees before his breath caught and he threw up. The spikes in his eyes were gently pulled back, and a warm hand rubbed his back soothingly. Cloud was too busy and sick to realize this, and that was probably a good thing.

Genesis and Angeal glanced up at Sephiroth, who was frowning. "Withdrawal symptoms," he said after a moment. "They should go away soon."

They nodded, and when Cloud seemed to be finished gently extracted themselves. Genesis carefully let Cloud's hair flop back in his face and backed away without a word.

Cloud sat on the floor for a few minutes, panting and willing the dizziness to go away. He stood eventually, brushed his teeth, splashed some water on his face and flushed the toilet with a grimace. Then he teetered back to his bedroom, grabbed Sebastian, and tentatively went downstairs.

The atmosphere in the house was less oppressive than it had been... had been ever, really. It was weird, and so Cloud didn't relax. It was day zero, wasn't it? Right? Was something supposed to happen? And now that he thought about it, what was time was it? He was all messed up.

Cloud spotted his phone on a couch in the parlor and collapsed onto it. He hugged Sebastian and glanced around the room, at the paint blobs on the walls.

Sephiroth's fist clenched discreetly at his sides. There Cloud was, cuddling a stuffed bird and sitting 'all alone' in this big, hostile mansion—he really felt disgusted with himself. Now that they knew the truth, it was easy to tell Cloud wasn't evil at all.

His cell phone buzzed and lit up. The battery was almost dead and it said that he had—holy crap, fifty-four missed calls? And all from Aerith!

"Hello?" Cloud answered, coughing a little.

"_This is my fifty-fifth message, and I swear that if—Cloud?"_ Aerith seemed shocked and was silent for a few seconds, then yelled, _"You scared me, hanging up on me like that after you... just—just-!"_

"Aerith! I'm _fine_," Cloud assured her. ...When had he hung up on Aerith? He couldn't remember.

"_You _better _be!" _She sounded pissed, and Cloud winced.

"Yeah. Um-" he coughed again and fell victim to a fit of sneezes.

"_And you're sick! Dammit, I am going to _kill _you, Cloud! Stay still! Don't do anything stupid! I'm coming up there—in fact, I'm leaving as soon as I can! Okay? Don't argue with me! I don't want to hear your excuses! Expect an earful when I get there!" _Aerith frantically hung up.

Cloud's mouth fell open. That was seriously the first time he had heard Aerith curse. But... she was coming here? Why?

His gaze landed on the small bag of food on the floor, and he remembered.

The freak-out of his. The hives, stomach pains, and throwing up. His passing out! Cloud sprang off the couch and checked his arms. They were smooth and normal-looking, but his hands were all bandaged up. He knew he hadn't done _that_.

A quick read of the ingredients confirmed what Cloud already knew—there weren't peanuts in the Chex Mix he had been eating. Which meant...

The Invisibles winced. It seemed Cloud had finally figured out what had happened.

Cloud skittered away from the bag. He was... alive! He hadn't made it to his EpiPen in time! He was supposed to carry it all the time, but he had left it in the bedside table like an idiot. He should have been dead. What had happened?

He remembered whoever had shown up right before he passed out. Who were _they_? Where were they now? Why hadn't he woken up in a hospital?

So many questions. One thing was for sure, though... his ghosts had tried to kill him. Cloud was terrified.

_Hurry up, Aerith. I need you._


	12. Lifted Spirits

**Tobi: Hi~ props this week go to Shirosenshi Kisetsu 166 and DeeJay-Dubu. This chapter is shorter and more lighthearted than last chapter... which is a good thing, I think. Angst isn't good for the soul, you know. As always, thank you everyone for all the reviews and wonderful comments. (Oh, and we have some fanart! I'll be posting links on my profile soon.)**

**CM: hey guys. im sorry i didnt reply to you all this time around. i had wayy too much on my hands this week. for those of you who dont know what Jumanji is: Jumani is a movie about a game that while you play it lets out monsters and other awful things. the only way to escape them is to finish the game. So it lets out things like: A stampede of animals, sucks you into a jungle, killer bats and bees, killer lion, killer plants, a soldier with a sniper gun out to get you, a flood. And if you can survive these things and win then the game will end and all the bad things will go away. The movie is great. I loved it. Anyways, hope this helps all our foreign readers. :D**

* * *

Kimchi—Cloud's favorite food—had never been so tasteless. Cloud chewed slowly, tense and rigid in his chair. Sebastian was in his lap, a comforting, familiar little weight, but his friend could only console him so much.

Swallowing thickly, Cloud set down his fork. The tasty, extremely spicy mess of cabbage and rice looked unappetizing; Cloud pushed it away and stared at the table.

What did he do now? Fight some more?

He had tried that already. It was obvious he wouldn't win.

Cloud sneezed and coughed harshly. Now he was sick. He was sick because the ghosts had... tried to kill him. _Kill _him.

The angered fire that had possessed him so recently was still there; it maybe even burned brighter than it had before. He was pissed and angry—of course he was. No one took an attempt on their life lightly. But a deep, dark fear made him freeze and tremble, and he focused very little on getting more revenge.

The next time it tried to kill him, it might succeed.

Cloud sniffed, coughed and blew his nose. The shower he had just taken helped, but he was still shivering and cold and was bundled up in sweats with a blanket over his shoulders. Before long he'd be unbearably hot and would take it all off, though.

For not the first time, his thoughts drifted towards his state of well-being. He should have been dead; he knew that. But he wasn't—why was that? Who had saved him?

At least he knew for sure it wasn't his _ghosts _who had saved his life.

But who else could it have been? A neighbor? (He didn't have any neighbors, Cloud admitted after a minute.) A... uh... vampire? There were coffins, right? Maybe something had crawled out of that padlocked and chained coffin?

Cloud immediately started feeling his neck for puncture wounds. ...Wait—he was being silly.

Something was up, that much he knew. Cloud drooped and rested his forehead on the table. He'd just scare himself speculating; it was better to just relax.

Things would get better once Aerith showed up.

* * *

...How did Cid survive? The amount of stares Aerith was getting as she drove the blond's beat-up, junky, covered-with-dirty-bumper-stickers-but-still-faster-than-any-other-vehicle-out-on-the-road car were making her seriously wish she had tinted windows.

Nibelheim was very pretty. The town itself was charming in a slightly-dirty, backwoods way, and the scenery was just gorgeous. She could see a few mountains in the distance, snow capping the taller ones.

Aerith cautiously drove the Highwind up a long, winding road towards what she presumed was Cloud's mansion.

_Cloud..._

She suspended judgment for the time being. Her focus was on finding Cloud, safe and sound.

Her mouth hung open as she came up to the manor. Cloud hadn't been lying when he said it was 'really nice.' She parked Cid's car and got out, craning her head back and peering up at the roof. She could see the horns of stone gargoyles on the top; they were creepy and didn't go well at all with the scenery of Nibelheim, but they were kind of nice, in a weird way. They would need to paint sometime too...

But, wow! Cloud lived _here_ all by himself?

She scowled as she remembered the hysterical, half-sobbing conversation Cloud had had with her. Again, she'd suspend her judgment until she saw and could draw conclusions by herself.

The front door was unlocked. Aerith let herself inside, and her eyes widened as she walked forward.

It was huge. There were two magnificent red-carpeted staircases, a shiny marble floor and a glittering chandelier overhead. The inside of the mansion was beautiful.

But it was _totaled._

Broken glass littered the floor. Paint splatters coated the windows, ceiling, furniture and floors. A couch was overturned in the next room, surrounded by pillows. There was a thick, brownish stain on the carpet of one of the staircases, and a whitish-yellow stain near the top of it.

It looked like a class of rabid kindergartners had been let loose inside with fingerpaints and baseball bats.

Aerith gently closed the door behind her and started poking around.

* * *

When Zack heard the growl of an engine, he lifted his head up off Genesis's lap and hurried towards the window. This was probably Cloud's friend—to be honest, he had been sort of excited to see the people the kid hung out with. It was hard to picture Cloud as anything other than 'Hojo's relative,' but he was getting there. At the moment the blond was upstairs cleaning his room.

He unlocked the door, and a minute later, a girl walked inside. She wore a worn pink dress and had pretty chestnut hair; Zack immediately liked her.

The girl—Aerith? If he remembered correctly?—looked around for a minute, eyes wide as she took in the sight of the mansion. Zack caught sight of Cloud's now-dried puke on the steps and winced, scratching the back of his neck bashfully even though no one could have known he was there and was partly-responsible for the mess.

He trotted back to Genesis, who was dozing on a couch. "Hey!" Zack whispered fiercely, shaking him. Genesis had been sleeping almost nonstop for the past day; Zack was afraid it was because he didn't want to be awake or something. They were all deeply affected by the guilt of knowing Cloud was innocent, but it had hit Genesis particularly hard. "Wake up!"

Genesis stirred a little and reached out, smushing a sleep-heavy hand on Zack's cheek and pushing him away. Zack wasn't deterred, though, and grabbed the offending hand. "Cloud's friend is here!"

That finally made Genesis wake a little. He sat up, yawned, and slurred, "Where's Seph n' 'Geal?"

Zack shrugged and hauled Genesis up. "Dunno. But come on! She's really pretty."

The glare Genesis sent him, although sleepy, made Zack shiver and smile charmingly to show the redhead he didn't have to get jealous or worried or anything.

Genesis 'hmphed' and made his way to the entrance room, which he had been voting to just call the 'foyer' because that was a heck of a lot easier to say all the time. Aerith was inspecting a broken lamp, hands on hips and making soft sounds of disapproval. The ex-Commander glanced at Zack, smiled softly, sadly, and left to go find the others.

Zack frowned as Aerith toed a bit of dried blue paint with her shoe. Here was more proof that Cloud was a normal guy with normal friends—a stab of hot guilt cleaved through him.

But... what was done was done, so they just had to keep moving forward.

Cloud ran a damp washcloth over his dresser, removing the last traces of flour that lingered from "hell week." His sheets had been washed, his carpet vacuumed, and Sebastian thrown in the washing machine for Aerith's arrival (Sebastian hadn't been very happy about that, but it had to be done).

"Cloud!"

_Aerith! _Cloud scampered out of his room and shot for the stairs, beaming down at his friend. Aerith grinned, and Cloud bounded down the staircase.

They collided and Cloud swung Aerith around in a big hug. Cloud laughed for no reason and set her on her feet, opening his mouth to start yakking. But, Aerith's hands clamped down on his spikes and pulled roughly. Cloud howled in pain and tried to push her off, but Aerith was unstoppable. She yanked and tugged until Cloud was bent over, hands up and pleading with her.

Only then did she let him go. She barked, "I was worried about you!"

Massaging his scalp and looking sheepish, he apologized. "Sorry..."

Aerith hugged him again, squeezing and asking, "How are you?"

"...Fine," Cloud answered vaguely. It was obvious that there was way more to it, most of which Aerith knew, but she hadn't been given the little details yet.

The brunette frowned, then gestured for Cloud to follow her. They got her things out of Cid's car, and Cloud took the opportunity to fill her in. Aerith listened closely, quietly, not saying anything until he was done. He decided to not mention the peanut incident, and Aerith didn't catch that he was withholding anything.

He was slightly nervous as to what she'd say, but for the moment, carrying Aerith's things upstairs took all his attention.

"What the hell is in this thing?"

Aerith giggled at him, a few steps behind on the stairs. "Stuff. Don't tell me you're out of shape!"

"I've been getting my exercise," Cloud muttered darkly, scanning the mansion for evidence of ghosts, even though it was unlikely he'd find any. Aerith didn't hear him, but a certain invisible man did.

It took three trips, but they eventually got all of Aerith's stuff into Cloud's room. Cloud made to toss a duffel bag on the dresser, but she stopped him.

"I'm sleeping in here with you? In your bed?"

"Yeah," Cloud replied absently, moving Sebastian over so Aerith would have room.

"...Um. Eww."

Cloud looked up; Aerith wrinkled her nose and tilted her head at the bed. Cloud's eyes widened and he burst, "I haven't done anything in there!"

Doubtfully, Aerith asked slowly, "You haven't?"

"I..." Cloud paused, frowning. "...Haven't."

He had been too busy fighting for his life to worry about anything of a sexual nature. ...What kind of man was he? It had been _weeks_... Cloud stopped thinking lest he scare Aerith away and smiled. "I haven't." Aerith snorted and sat down.

The reason he wanted Aerith in his room that night was because he didn't want her all by herself in some guest room. These ghosts were murderous—he knew that. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to his friend while she was staying.

Fifteen minutes later had them settled in and sitting cross-legged on the bed, discussing. Almost unbelievably, Aerith bought his story. She didn't think he was crazy, wasn't going to stop being his friend!

"Have you tried talking to the ghosts?" she asked seriously.

Cloud grimaced. "Yes, but it didn't do me any good." He—cleverly, he thought—left out anything about the olive branch when he explained his attempts to make peace with the ghosts. Aerith seemed amused by the cookie idea, though.

When he finished pouring out his soul and flashing his half-healed wounds, Cloud sagged back onto the bed, actually exhausted. He sneezed.

Aerith gave him a level look and asked, inspecting him, "So... what happened when I was on the phone with you?"

Cloud froze. He didn't want to tell Aerith about the peanut thing—she'd try to make him leave the house, and he didn't want that. He wasn't done with it; he'd never be. He'd be dead before he left. He said after a short pause, "The ghosts took my phone, and I was feeling sick and didn't want to chase after it. I'm sorry—I know I should have called you back as soon as I got it back, but I was feeling really gross and just went to sleep."

Aerith bought this too, and nodded sympathetically. There was silence for a moment, and Cloud had a great idea. "Aerith!" he blurted. "Use your Cantien powers to make them leave me alone!"

Aerith burst out laughing. Cloud had been serious, though, referring to Aerith's unique religion, and was not nearly as amused as she. "I don't have special powers," she said once her laughter had died down. She got up off the bed and moved towards a bag in the corner, however.

"Do _something_!"

A thick, wooden, rectangle-ish... _thing _was pulled out of the bag. Aerith turned, held it out and informed him, "A Ouija board."

Cloud blinked. "A what?"

The Ouija board was placed on the bed, but not opened up. There was a metal hinge on the one side. Cloud stared at it, getting a very _Jumanji_-ish feel about the whole thing. What he would have given to have a stampede of animals crush his ghosts! Or a madman hunter with a gun shooting at them!

"A Ouija board," Aerith repeated. "It will help us speak to the spirits. I picked this one up in Midgar before I left. We ask the ghosts questions, and it'll answer us."

That was a terrifying thought, but Cloud swallowed and nodded. His friend then grabbed a funny-looking candle—see, he _knew _Aerith would use her magical Cantien powers—and a small brown paper bag. Aerith tilted her head towards the door, and they went downstairs.

"Sit," Aerith commanded when they got to the kitchen. Cloud tentatively sat at the table, watching what the brunette was doing with rapt attention. She placed her goodies on the table and rooted around in the cabinets until she found a container of salt.

Aerith proceeded to make a pentagon of salt on the floor around the table, chanting something as she did so.

Cloud's eyes bugged out of his head. When finished, Aerith stood and announced to the kitchen, "This pentagon will keep out any spirits with negative intentions. If there's anyone here who would like to be nice and talk to us, they can pass through it."

The Invisibles, who were, of course, not five feet away, stared at each other. Sephiroth had his hand covering the left side of his face, and Angeal shrugged slowly.

Under Cloud's intense gaze, Aerith lit her candle and placed it on one end of the table. From the bag she pulled out some incense, of all things, and lit that too with the matches found in a kitchen drawer. She filled a bowl with water and set that on one end of the table too, and located a tiny potted plant on a windowsill in some adjacent room and placed that down too.

"I have something here that represents four elements," Aerith explained. "Fire, air, water and earth. Each item is in its respective cardinal direction." She indicated which way was north, south, east and west. Cloud nodded slowly, liking the smell of the incense if nothing else.

"Cantinians believe in a fifth element, though—one that combines and brings the other four together. Our planchette will represent spirit for the séance, alright?"

Cloud was totally lost. "Planchette?"

"Planchette?" Zack echoed. He glanced at the other three men and laughed, "Duuuude, this girl is as crazy as Cloud!"

Back to rooting around in the cabinets. "The planchette is what we touch, get it? Spirits will move it to the correct letter, number or word to answer our question."

"...Uh-huh," Cloud said blandly.

Genesis frowned, shooting Angeal a look.

Aerith finally pulled out a shot glass. She grinned at Cloud, took a breath and entered the salt pentagon. She sat down in the chair opposite the blond and opened up the Ouija board.

Every letter of the alphabet was printed on the wood in large, fancy letters. The numbers from one to ten were beneath that, and the words 'Hello' and 'Farewell' were in the bottom corners.

Aerith placed the shot glass on the board and explained. "We touch the planchette—we _cannot _let go, okay?—and the ghost will talk to us by moving it to the correct letters and spelling its answer. Got it?"

Cloud nodded again, both placed two fingers on the shot glass, and Aerith began the séance. "Are there any spirits who would like to talk to us?" she asked loudly. Cloud nearly choked and shot out of his chair at her audacity, but resisted and stayed put.

The other men in the room glanced at each other again. Zack giggled, "Wouldn't it be freaky if it actually moved?" (Secretly, Zack was afraid of ghosts, but he'd never tell his lovers that.)

Genesis snorted and tentatively walked forward. He hesitated briefly, then stuck his finger into the shot glass. He slowly dragged it to the 'HELLO.'

Cloud squeaked, blue eyes huge. Angeal smiled at that. Aerith looked surprised too. "...I-I didn't do that, Aerith!" Cloud stuttered.

"It...it was one of your ghosts," Aerith shakily confirmed. She continued to the ghost, "Do you mean us harm?" (The pentagon should have kept any ghosts who _did_ mean them harm out, but she figured it wasn't a bad question to ask.)

Genesis slowly spelled out 'NO,' pausing after the first letter before going onto the second.

Aerith smiled broadly at Cloud, who looked like he was about to be sick.

"Did you harm Cloud?"

'YES.'

Aerith frowned. "Why? What did he do?"

Genesis thought about his answer for a moment and glanced back at the others. He finally settled for 'MISUNDERSTANDING.'

At this, Cloud spluttered and swore. "A 'misunderstanding?' You tried to _kill me_! This better be one hell of a 'misunderstanding,' you fucking-"

He was silenced with a stern look. Aerith coughed lightly before moving on. "How many of you are there?"

Cloud watched as the shot glass moved by itself and slid down to the '4.'

_Four ghosts!_

"Will you bully him again?"

'NO.' There was a pause, then: 'CLOUD.'Cloud's eyes widened as he realized that the ghost knew his name. The shot glass moved and the spirit continued, 'IF YOU CAN PLEASE FORGIVE US.'

Blue eyes widened with outrage, and Aerith made a soft sound of surprise. ..._Forgive _them? Was this ghost crazy? Why the hell would he forgive something that had tried to kill him? No... he wasn't about to do any forgiving anytime soon.. This ghost could kiss his ass.

"I'm glad we had this little chat," Aerith spoke up, "Because if I hear you've been bothering my friend again, I'll come back with an exorcist. I mean that. Is this understood?"

Cloud watched as the planchette moved again.

'YES.'

If Genesis had been an actual ghost, he would have been scared. As it was, his lips gave a miniscule twitch and he stepped back, avoiding looking at Cloud. She had every right to be angry at him.

'GOODBYE.'

It might have been his imagination, but Cloud felt like the atmosphere in the mansion was a little bit...lighter. Maybe it was just the knowledge that his ghosts may not have been after him anymore—at any rate, he felt a little bit better.

Then he realized that all people, even ghosts, were capable of lying, and he fell back into suspicion.

Aerith smiled. Cloud frowned.

All four Invisibles grimaced. Their apology had been a nice idea, but what were they going to do if Cloud was too afraid of them to accept their apology? He didn't have to forgive them, but they wanted Cloud to know that they really were sorry. They couldn't just _talk _to him—they'd give the kid a heart attack.

"It seems you don't have much to worry about," Aerith said, closing the Ouija board and standing. Cloud said nothing and helped her clean up, not trusting one word the ghost had 'said.'

They cleaned up, chatting about the whole thing. Aerith seemed convinced that they were sincerely sorry, which bothered Cloud a little. So trusting, that girl was. Maybe she just had more faith in Cantinian stuff than he did.

Now that the highlight of the evening was over, they didn't know what to do. They hung out in Cloud's room for a while, catching up, then simultaneously changed into pajamas.

"His girlfriend, do you think?" Zack asked, turning away respectfully as the two younger people got dressed, completely at ease being in the same room as each other.

"Perhaps," Sephiroth answered. "It isn't any of our business, however."

They devoured almost a whole tub of ice cream downstairs before Aerith suddenly snapped her fingers and burst, "You never gave me a tour!"

Cloud chucked his spoon in the sink and started. To tell the truth, he doubted he had ever been in the whole mansion either, so this was probably a good thing. He was eager to relax and just have _fun _for once—his stay here had been horrid, and he felt like he deserved it.

The first floor was the first thing they toured. Cloud gleefully pointed out the destruction from the war. "I was planting flowers in Midgar," Aerith marveled, "and you were fighting ghosts. Wow."

The home theater was a big hit. They found some storage closets and a room full of some kind of polish or something. Neither had any clue what _that _was about. They only briefly stopped in the basement—to be honest, Cloud was still terrified of going down there. You couldn't _pay_ him to go back in that scary coffin room.

The tour continued for a while, and they eventually moved up to the second floor. Nothing really interesting had happened until then, so it was a big surprise when Aerith leant against a section of wall in a guest room and the bit of wall _moved_.

It was a rectangular section, like a door. It didn't swing open, exactly; it was made so it sunk in, then swung open about halfway. It was dark, wherever it led to.

Cloud glanced at Aerith, grinned, then bolted inside. A secret passage! This was so exciting...

The walls inside were about three or four feet apart. They expected it to be dark and damp, like a cave or something, but it just felt like drywall. There wasn't a light switch or anything, so Cloud had to stick his arms out and blindly grope his way along.

The passage went straight for a little bit, and then abruptly turned left. Their breathing seemed loud and obnoxious in here—it was quiet and creepy, but Cloud didn't let Aerith see he was freaked.

"Where do you think this goes?" Aerith whispered from behind him.

Cloud was busy feeling out another turn and merely said, "Dunno."

They hit a dead end in another minute, and they thumped the wall all over to see if it would open. Aerith eventually found a doorknob and, feeling a bit stupid, she opened the door. They stumbled into a new room, deeply breathing in the un-stinky and not-damp air.

"Hojo's room!" Cloud cried, blanching. "Ugh!"

Coming out of the secret passage themselves, the Invisibles snickered at that. They all felt a bit disturbed knowing that Hojo had some passageway in his bedroom—or, maybe it was the first owner of the house who had it. None of them knew about it. That probably meant there were lots of things in this house that they were unaware of, and that was an unnerving thought.

Aerith wrinkled her nose as she inspected Hojo's room. Cloud avoided looking at the bed—knowing Hojo had slept there made his skin crawl. She didn't seem fazed though; she opened the first drawer of Hojo's dresser, and Cloud almost gagged. Hojo's underwear were probably all ratty and covered in skidmarks and gave diseases—no thank you!

Judging by how fast Aerith slammed the drawer shut, he had been correct. She coughed gently, wiping her hands on her pajama pants even though she hadn't touched anything other than the dresser handles.

"I hate being in here," Cloud confessed, meaning to go back toward the passage door and jumping when it closed in front of him. There wasn't any evidence that there was a door there. Creepy.

Genesis cursed loudly; he had been trapped in the secret passage when he had accidentally closed it on himself from the inside. The other three laughed at the redhead's misfortune and followed Cloud and Aerith outside. It was kind of weird, probably, how they kept following them around like stalkers. But there wasn't anything better to do, really, so tailing the newcomers it was.

Another passageway was discovered that went from the nursery to a big bedroom that could have been a master bedroom. It was sad because the nursery and its contents were unused—Aerith seemed to think that the original owner (not Hojo; _definitely _not Hojo) had been about to have a baby, but something had happened, like a miscarriage. Speculation just depressed them, so they left the nursery and thought about what to do next. Aerith wanted a tour of the grounds, but they were in pajamas already and it was getting dark. They could do that tomorrow.

But then Aerith had a wonderful idea; they raided the kitchen for popcorn, soda and junk food and decided to watch a movie. Cloud had been itching to try the huge screen in the home theater out, but he hadn't got the chance to yet (for obvious reasons).

Cloud flipped the switch up, and the lights came on slowly, not abruptly like other lights. It was like... the opposite of dimming; the lights sort of... gradually turned on. Was there a word for that? Anyway, it was really, really cool.

Aerith sat in the very first row of huge recliners, placing the popcorn in her lap and looking at him expectantly. Cloud fumbled around until he found a DVD player in the corner.

The last thing he wanted to do was watch a horror movie. He probably wouldn't be able to handle it. Instead, he picked a comedy from a large selection of movies in a small cabinet. It wasn't familiar, but that was alright. He stuck it in, pressed play, grabbed the remote, and joined Aerith after turning off the lights.

The movie wasn't anything special. They enjoyed it, though; Aerith laughed at all the stupid scenes and Cloud made fun of the actors when they did a particularly bad bit of acting.

For a while, Cloud was able to forget everything that had happened in the mansion since he had moved there. He was having fun with Aerith, watching movies and making himself fat just like he used to back in Midgar. It was really, really nice.

"I hate this movie," Zack groaned. He sat in the row of chairs behind Cloud and Aerith, as did the other three invisible men. Sephiroth had his legs crossed, propping his head up with his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. He hadn't said anything negative about the movie yet, and seemed to be actually paying close attention to it.

Genesis kept stealing pieces of popcorn when the two in front weren't looking. Them seeing floating food probably wasn't a good thing.

At one point Cloud cracked up when the main character fell into a dumpster because the villain had set up mousetraps everywhere (or something like that—the only one paying complete attention in the room was Sephiroth) and choked on a popcorn kernel.

He made an odd noise and wheezed, but no air was getting to his lungs. Aerith and Angeal both sprang towards the choking boy.

Angeal was fully prepared to perform the Heimlich; they couldn't let Cloud die now, now that they knew the truth—but Aerith got there first and punched Cloud right in the gut.

The kernel flew out of Cloud's mouth and landed somewhere. Cloud continued to laugh like nothing had happened and blubbered through his tears of amusement and pain, "Patrick is so _stupid_!"

Angeal paused and sat back down after a moment (a monster should have known better than to try and help, anyway). Zack roared into laughter. Aerith hit Cloud's shoulder and said that _he was_ the stupid one.

By the end of the movie, Zack was fast asleep in his chair, Genesis was feasting on a bag of gummy worms he had stealthily stolen and Angeal and Sephiroth were making out (and most likely a bit more than that) in the back row like horny teenagers. Genesis flung a gummy worm at them.

Cloud was completely stuffed, and he pushed the empty bowl away. Aerith was half-asleep in her chair, eyes drooping as she chewed an Airhead contentedly.

They didn't even bother to clean up; they stood and left, each heading towards a bathroom to brush their teeth and wash up. Cloud fell onto his bed, scooting over and making room for Aerith, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long while. He hugged Sebastian, murmured 'good night' and rolled over. Tomorrow they had things to do, but for now, he could relax and didn't have to worry about anything.

In a room on the other side of the mansion, Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth were awake but were pretending to be asleep, each staring at the ceiling and wishing sleep would come to them as easily as it had for Zack.


	13. Speed Racer

**Tobi: Thank you everyone! And a big thank you to Cinnamon Cloud. :) I hope everyone likes this chapter (damn, Cloud's adorable). Mwuaha, the plot thickens... ._. ...sorta.  
**

**CM: Hi all! Im so glad we got so many positive comments on the last chapter! Im sorry we're a bit late this time. And because I didn't reply to anyone. Too many exams and projects...I hate school. =_= Well I hope you all enjoy this chapter too! :D**

* * *

Waking up the morning after Aerith slept over was great.

The sunlight hadn't hit his eyelids cruelly for once (perhaps it was being nice, too) and he lay comfortably for a bit before rolling over and looking at Aerith. She was still fast asleep, hair a tangled mess as she hung almost off the other end of the bed. This bed was freaking huge—how had she gotten all the way over there? Whatever.

Cracking his back and stretching, Cloud got out of bed and quietly left the bedroom. He glanced left and right before leaving, not trusting the ghosts, wherever they were.

Brushing his teeth woke him up a little bit. Cloud frowned into the sink as he scrubbed his tongue. He wasn't quite sure what to think at this point—was his ghost really sorry, or was it still out to get him?

The cautious route seemed the best plan of action. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. If something happened again... he'd be ready.

When he returned he saw Aerith already awake and brushing her hair. They smiled at each other, she left to go use the bathroom, and Cloud wandered downstairs.

...The house was quiet.

_Too quiet!_

Cloud felt like he was in a horror movie as he turned on the spot, studying the house. He half-expected to see blood running down the walls and a virgin's dead body drop from the ceiling, but everything was in the same still, destroyed and paint-covered condition it had been in before.

Was he overreacting? Maybe. But he refused to believe his ghosts had good intentions—not after all the times they had hurt him. Not after he had almost _died_.

After nervously making twice his usual amount of waffles, he sat at the table and waited for Aerith. They ate their food in comfortable silence (or at least on Aerith's part; Cloud was sweeping the kitchen with a hard blue gaze the whole time).

The tour of the outside was first on their agenda for the day. It was a little chilly, since it was so early in the morning, so Cloud shrugged on a sweater and Aerith donned a light jacket.

"You're lucky, Cloud," Aerith breathed as they inhaled the crisp mountain air and admired the view.

_I beg to differ. _"Yeah, I know."

They walked around the side of the house first, and Cloud realized with a terrible jolt that Fenrir was still in the woods. He had left it there from before the war! It was probably covered in bird poop... a chipmunk was probably in the exhaust pipe... the candies probably had mold all over them. How had he forgotten about his motorcycle?

He bit his lip and almost ditched Aerith to go get Fenrir, but resisted. No one knew it was there.

Aerith gasped, and Cloud's attention returned. A section of his garden was ripped up and torn. Dirt coated the side of the house and shriveled bits of plants were clumped haphazardly in the mulch and grass.

"What happened?" Aerith asked. She hadn't expected an answer, though, and sank to her knees in the dirt. She gently handled a small, pretty pink flower, appalled at the carnage. Cloud watched as she re-planted a still mostly-alive flower, carefully putting dirt around the roots. It was a saddening sight.

It clicked. Cloud remembered the monster that lived in his pool and dove to cover Aerith, protecting her. If whatever was in there had crawled out and had destroyed the garden, then they had to get the hell away!

"Cloud?"

"Ssh!" Cloud shushed her. He listened closely, peering in the direction of the pool. Everything was calm, but he didn't dare relax. Aerith tried to say something else, and Cloud hissed over her, "There's a monster living in my swimming pool. _Sssh_!"

She snapped her mouth shut and tensed up. Cloud squinted and was poised to attack for almost a full minute before drawing away from his friend and running for the pool. He hurried there with his legs bent in a crouch so he was as low to the ground as he could be, like a spy, or a burglar in the middle of the night. He didn't dare stand close enough to the water to get dragged in, and stayed a safe distance away as he inspected it for a hideous shape, blood-stained water or frightening spikes of death.

...The pool looked fine. Calm. Normal. But... it had looked that way before, and then he had almost been killed!

"I don't see anything," Aerith whispered as she walked up to him, studying the water.

"Don't let your guard down," he said softly. "I bet you it's out there... waiting."

Aerith was more than a little skeptical, but she decided not to argue with Cloud. He got things into his frighteningly blond head and wouldn't let go. It was easier to go along with whatever he was obsessing about and crack up in her head, most of the time.

"Let's go over there, then," she suggested, pointing off to the right.

"...Sure." Cloud gave the pool a last suspicious look before leaving. The rest of the outdoor tour happened without incident—mostly. They ate apples from an apple tree on the corner of the huge property, and Cloud spent five minutes hacking up his after he got a mouthful of juicy, wiggly, very-much-alive worm.

There must have been those neat bush-sculptures at one point, but now, they were just overgrown masses. Cloud joked that each one was an elephant, but Aerith one-upped him when she pointed at a blob and said it was an amoeba. What the hell was an amoeba?

They were near the tennis courts when Cloud let out an abrupt whoop of delight and ran around the fence. Aerith curiously followed. A white golf cart was parked in scraggly shin-high grass (dammit, he really needed to mow).

There weren't any keys anywhere in or on it, and Cloud swore horribly as he practically turned the thing inside-out looking for them. Aerith gave an exasperated smile and sat in the passenger seat, smoothing her pants down as she did so.

Cloud told her to stay put and took off in a frenzy. Aerith watched him go, sighed and waited. That man was a nut when it came to vehicles. If she insisted she drive or tried to get between him and it, Cloud would've bitten her head off. No thanks.

The shed was Cloud's destination—he very nearly broke the door down in his haste to get inside. The golf cart's keys were on a peg in the wall, and he seized them and sprinted back to the cart.

He was a panting, sweaty mess when he returned, but victoriously put in the keys and let out another whoop. Aerith rolled her eyes as Cloud started driving. He must have been going at breakneck speeds, judging by his expression, instead of going about five miles per hour on nasty, clumpy grass.

They circled the whole property twice (steering clear of the pool, of course) but on the third time around, the cart ran out of gas. Cloud cursed and banged the palm of his hand into the horn a few times before reluctantly climbing out of it.

Grumpily, Cloud finished the tour. They spent maybe five minutes back in the house before coming back out; Aerith wanted to see the town. It was a long walk—a _really _long walk—but it was doable. The mountain air was thinner than what either was used to, and the coldness of it hurt Cloud's lungs, but it was still nice. He felt healthy, far more than he ever had in smog-filled Midgar.

They chatted as they walked, pointing out interesting trees or plants to each other. One tree had an odd, large knob on it, and Cloud dubbed it 'the penis tree.' Aerith hit him for that.

Both tripped at least twice on their way down—Aerith was a complete klutz, and Cloud was by no means an acrobat. Despite that, they enjoyed the walk down the mountain trail (they had decided to take the scenic route, rather than the road).

They made it to the main part of Nibelheim in just under an hour. Both were famished, and Cloud squinted, looking for a restaurant.

Continuing their conversation from up on the trail, Aerith asked, "So... have you found anyone you like, yet?"

Cloud snorted. "Hell no. I've only met one person here yet, and she's a girl." It was a little depressing, not having a boyfriend anymore and probably not getting one in the future.

"Hah, like she'd ever go for _you_. You've got to try to expand, some—this town's too small to find that perfect someone."

"I could have every girl in this town eating out of my hand, if I wanted."

Aerith laughed. "Sure you can."

Frowning, Cloud looked around until he noticed two girls down the street a bit. They were watching him. He shot a cheeky smile at Aerith and started towards them.

"Hello ladies," Cloud said smoothly as he got close. He swished his spikes out of his eyes and grinned at them.

Both had a few seconds of intense eye-communication before they said at the same time, "Hello!"

"My friend and I are kinda hungry—you two look like you'd know a good place to eat." He paused, smiling and looking into both girls' eyes. "You two are natives, right? Not lost, confused newcomers like me."

"We know everything about Nibelheim!" The one on the left chirped.

"We can help!" chimed the other.

"I'm Helga-"

"And I'm Olga."

For a second Cloud almost popped something as he tried not to laugh—he felt caught up in some straight man's fantasy about twin-ish girls who finished each other's sentences. He got himself under control before they noticed anything and reached out, kissing both girls' hands.

"Nice to meet you—Helga, Olga," he murmured, nodding at each girl in turn. Both blushed pink.

Aerith fought the urge to be sick as she watched Cloud continue to flirt shamelessly (and _badly_) with the two Nibelheim girls. Alright, so it seemed the girls here liked Cloud. She felt a little sad—Cloud hadn't shown any interest in anyone since Reno. He deserved to be happy, after _that_, and unfortunately for Olga and Helga, they weren't what he was looking for.

She watched Cloud reduce the two redheads to puddles of blushing goo and rolled her eyes.

When Tifa exited the town barbershop, the last thing she had expected to see was Cloud Strife flirting with Helga and Olga. She stopped short and watched for a few seconds.

Cloud noticed the figure across the street, looked up and immediately stopped. Tifa was there, watching his "Sexy Cloud" routine with narrowed eyes. He felt guilty; he knew Tifa genuinely liked him, and he didn't want her thinking there was a possibility for anything... because, well, he was gay, and that was that.

Tifa walked forward, discreetly giving her friends the evil eye. Cloud smiled bashfully, and Tifa instantly forgave him. Cloud was a sweetheart—he wasn't one of the filthy scumbags that so often were in Nibelheim. His flirts had seemed harmless, really.

She noticed the brunette standing off to the side.

_Who's _that_?_

"Hey, Tifa," Cloud said awkwardly. "Um—oh, hey, cute haircut!—we're gonna go get lunch..." He made to step away with his friend, but Tifa said quickly, "Why don't we eat something together? I know a good restaurant within walking distance you should try."

Hesitating briefly, Cloud said, "...Okay."

Ten minutes later, seated in two small tables pushed together in the town restaurant, Tifa smiled as charmingly as she could at Cloud. Cloud looked slightly uncomfortable, squeezed between Aerith and Olga.

"Oh! Tifa, this is Aerith. Aerith, this is Tifa."

Aerith held out her hand, warm green eyes curiously studying the other female. "Nice to meet you."

After pleasantries had been exchanged all around and the food had been ordered, the group fell into discussion. Helga and Aerith debated back and forth about the perks of living in the city versus the countryside. Oddly enough, Aerith was stressing that life out here was better, away from the smog and pollution, but Helga vehemently claimed that there was nothing to do, and that she'd rather be able to go to a movie theater or see a play and be sick than sit at home and stare at the ceiling in perfect health. (Cloud tried not to snicker at that—because she had just admitted she just stared at the ceiling when there was nothing to do—but failed miserably.)

Across the table, Tifa was turning green and growing horns.

Cloud and Aerith kept brushing shoulders and weren't pulling away awkwardly like boys and girls so often did. Their eyes met and they shared a private smile before turning back to the other girls.

_His girlfriend?_

"So," Tifa pressed when there was a short lull in conversation after their food arrived and everyone dug in, "Did you run your delivery business in Midgar?"

Aerith answered her question instead of Cloud, which further soiled Tifa's mood. "Yes," she said, munching on a french fry, "He was pretty popular, too."

Tifa frowned. _This isn't good!_

_

* * *

_

The sound of steady, controlled breathing filled the slightly-chilled room. Zack wasn't cold, though; he had been pumping iron for at least an hour already, and he had worked up a sweat.

He frowned as he curled his arms, biceps straining. Here he was, working out in the basement like a creepy loner when there was still _so many _things to be done. Zack dropped the weights, panting a little and drinking from his water bottle.

He had to _do _something.

Passively waiting around and hoping wasn't his style. There had to be something he could do to help the situation...

Sitting on the carpet and stretching, Zack thought. They had to get Cloud to forgive them. Definitely. This guilt was eating them alive; they _needed _Cloud to forgive them.

But what to do?

Handling this right would be tricky. There was a huge margin of error here, so they had to be careful. But what could _he _do? What did he bring to the table?

If there was one thing Zack Fair was good at, it was making friends.

Zack choked on the water he was drinking and sprang off the floor, nearly pulling a hamstring in the process.

"Guys! I have a plan!"

After another minute of hollering, his lovers appeared. Genesis looked sleepy; he must've been sleeping... _again_. (He had to stop that.)

"I think we should try to be Cloud's friend," Zack blurted before any of them could interrupt. "Rather than begging for forgiveness, if we try to become his friend, he'll be way more likely to forgive us. And we'll have a new friend too!"

Nobody looked even remotely enthused. All they wanted was the blond's forgiveness to ease their heavy hearts, not something like _friendship_.

"Why would we do that?" Genesis asked, crossing his arms and scowling.

The youngest glanced at Angeal and said, "So we can prove we're not monsters. And I think he'd be a pretty cool friend to have, even if he's crazy. Heh."

Angeal said dispassionately, staring off into the distance somewhere, "I don't think it will work."

Zack burst. He exclaimed loudly and passionately, glad that because Cloud was out of the house he didn't have to talk at the special SOLDIER volume so the blond couldn't hear him speak (it gave them all headaches, to be honest), "We need to preserve our honor, right? We're good guys! I'm not comfortable with anyone thinking I'm an asshole, 'cause I'm not—not...not usually. It'll work!"

Sephiroth sighed. "Give it up, Zackary. He hates and fears us—and I don't blame him."

"Think of the _cookies_, Seph!" Zack implored, getting desperate. "If he forgives us and becomes our friend, he might bake us cookies some day. Can you picture it? Right from the oven—imagine the smell that's gonna fill the mansion. I bet he can make any cookie in the world. Those chocolate chip ones were _delicious_. Just imagine the snickerdoodles!"

Sephiroth's stomach growled.

He was in.

Genesis 'tsk-ed,' "You're such a-" he borrowed Zack's nickname, "-_cookie whore, _Sephiroth!" He faced Zack, giving in. "...Alright—what's your plan, then, Puppy?"

"Uhhh..." The truth was, he hadn't gotten this far in his plans yet. "...Take it away, Seph!"

The General, clearly not paying attention, daydreaming, jumped a little and said, "—What did you just say?"

* * *

The restaurant table was getting to be a little too crowded for Cloud's taste. Tifa's raging jealousy was taking up all available chairs, and even a few from the surrounding tables. He was extremely uncomfortable, but Aerith seemed only amused.

Immediately after Aerith finished her last bite, Cloud announced, "We've gotta split. Thanks for lunch, girls." He pulled out his wallet, about to slap some cash down on the table, and Tifa stopped him.

"Cloud! I think I have a delivery I need you to do for me!"

She sounded desperate. Cloud's head snapped up and he said excitedly, "Really? When?"

Tifa blinked. "Um... day after tomorrow...ish?"

"Okay!"

Aerith tugged on his sleeve, and Cloud stumbled towards the door. Tifa said she'd stop by the next day to go over the details, and Cloud left, heart hammering away in his chest.

"Jeeeeeeeeez," Aerith said slowly once they were alone. "Tifa's an... interesting person."

"She's really nice, and I feel bad for her."

Aerith hummed, and they started towards home. She teased him about Tifa almost the whole time, cackling evilly at his frustrated blushes. She could (obviously) tell that Tifa liked Cloud; Cloud had to be careful not to lead her on. She suggested that he tell her point-blank that he was gay, but he blanched at that idea and shrugged it off.

The brunette's departure was a tearful affair. Aerith couldn't stay for long, as Denzel had come down with the flu and needed someone to look after him. They re-packed Cid's car, talking about the gruff blond as they did so.

"What the hell... is in this thing?" Cloud puffed as he carefully carried one of his friend's extremely heavy duffel bags down the stairs.

Aerith said in a flat, ominous voice, "Stuff. Trust me, be glad the Ouija board worked and I didn't have to use any of it." Cloud plopped it in the trunk and got the hell away from it.

They hugged on the front porch for a while before she got in the car. Cloud did his best to get as much of Aerith's pretty, unique scent in his nostrils as he could—he almost never would have been able to smell her again. Fucking ghosts.

He kissed her on the cheek, she tugged on a yellow spike, and she left. Cloud waved until the shitty car disappeared, then let himself back in the house.

Just him and the ghosts again, huh?

Distrustfully, Cloud went upstairs, looking over his shoulder frequently. He took a shower, enjoying the way the warm water hit his muscles. The mansion seemed even bigger and quieter than before and he missed Aerith, but he'd be okay. He knew where the rolling pin was, in case of another attack, anyway.

When he eventually came back downstairs, he stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and stared.

_What the fuck—_

_Dinner _sat on the table. There was a plate of steak, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, and a glass of wine waiting for him. Oh, hell—there was even a tiny lit scented candle off to the side.

...Was this his ghosts' doing, as they tried to get him to forgive them?

Fat chance! He needed a hell of a lot more than _food_ to forget about his almost-death. A _lot _more.

Near the refrigerator, four invisible men waited anxiously. Angeal had cooked the food, and he was pretty sure that Cloud would accept the peace offering and dig in. Zack eyed the steak with hungry eyes.

Hopefully this would work. They still couldn't exactly talk to Cloud—he'd have a stroke. This would take some careful maneuvering.

Cloud seized the plate, then turned and chucked it through the already-broken window from a few days back. It clipped a jagged panel of glass and broke that too, adding to the glittering pile on the floor. He hurled the wine glass outside, and the candle too, just to be safe.

_It was probably poisoned._

Silence. Until, "...That was kinda mean."

Angeal mourned the waste of the hour and a half it had taken him to cook everything just right, and Cloud flashed the room the middle finger before stomping out.

* * *

Meeting with the bigwigs was a pain in the ass.

Every time he went, he had to fix his collar, button his jacket and try to comb his hair. The Commander hated it when his people looked messy.

The Turk guarding the door stared at him as he fixed his appearance. He sneered back. Asshole.

Pushing open the door, he walked inside and saluted respectfully.

Tseng creeped him out a little, to be honest. Verdot had taken control after Tseng had been kidnapped with the General and those SOLDIERs, and now that Tseng had returned, he found he... kinda missed Verdot. Tseng had a cold, ominous barrier around him that he just didn't like.

Regarding him silently, Tseng said, "You are going to be stationed in Nibelheim."

"Yes, Sir." _Where the hell is that? _Shit, he was being sent somewhere crappy... damn.

Handing him a folder, Tseng said, "Your mission is to keep an eye on the owner of the mansion on the mountain. You will report directly to me if there is any suspicious activity or if anything happens. If he dies somehow, let me know immediately." The look in his eyes was clearly, 'Don't ask any questions, and you will live.'

He nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"You will leave at the end of the week. Be ready. Do not let me down."

"I won't, Sir." Turks never let their Commander down.

"You are dismissed."

He left, and as soon as he got away from prying eyes, he opened the folder. Keeping an eye on some rich dude? _Boooring. _But something about the case had to be important, if Tseng was sending _him_.

On top was a picture of Nibelwhatever's mansion, and beneath it was—

A familiar, pretty face smiled up at him. Wide blue eyes, striking blond hair, cute, soft-looking lips... What?

"_Cloud_?"


	14. Two in the Tub

**Tobi: Hey everyone! Don't worry, we're back-with fic!** ** Anyway, myndt-moon was reviewer number 950, and maiyr was number one thousand! WE HAVE OVER A THOUSAND REVIEWS, GUYS! NEVER EVER EVER DID I EVER THINK IM WOULD GET THIS MUCH! I love all of you, so so so so so much. Thank you!** ** (and yes, there's some other FF characters in here in honor of Dissidia. Just roll with it.)  
**

**CM: Did you miss us? *dodges flying objects* ._. I won't say much. Go read. Enjoy!** **But: HOLY FRIGGIN CRAP ITS OVER 1000! I TOLD TOBI WE COULD DO IT! :D DUDES YOU ALL ROCK! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!**

* * *

_Oh, GaiaGaiaGaia—_

Only a shock of yellow spikes and bright blue eyes were visible. Cloud's comforter was tightly wrapped around his body. It was pulled up to the bridge of his nose, and he clutched it and Sebastian desperately as he watched the unusual—and freakish—phenomenon occurring on the other side of his bedroom.

His clothes were floating. Of course, Cloud knew that they weren't exactly floating, and that they were being handled by one of his ghosts, but he preferred to think that they were actually floating. That was certainly less scary than what was really going on.

It seemed the spirits hadn't given up trying to be nice to him. He had hoped that his performance the previous night would have deterred them but... that was obviously not the case.

A shirt drifted out of his drawer, unfolded itself and was promptly folded back up and put into the dresser where it belonged. After a few articles of clothing failed inspection, a shirt was finally picked and flew over to the bed. It landed next to his hip and was flattened and smoothed, like someone was getting rid of any wrinkles.

Cloud almost had a heart attack.

A pair of pants joined the shirt, and a pair of socks and a little pair of boxer-briefs settled onto the comforter. Cloud stared—it was a pretty cute outfit, actually; his ghost must've had good fashion sense.

But that was irrelevant! His ghost was picking out his _clothes_! This was quite possibly one of the worst wake-up calls he had ever gotten.

Genesis beamed and waited expectantly. Cloud was obviously terrified, judging by how wide his eyes were and how he was huddled on the bed, but hopefully he'd wear the clothes and accept the latest peace offering.

_Do it... c'mon..._

When Cloud shoved the clothes to the floor, glared at a spot to his left and picked out his own clothing, Genesis couldn't say he was surprised. He rolled his eyes, threw his hands in the air and walked out silently. It was going to be hard—_really _hard—to get Cloud to forgive them; he realized this now. But he'd still try.

Dressing in the bathroom, Cloud seethed. Why couldn't they get that he didn't _want _their help? He almost wished that they were trying to kill him again, as crazy as that was.

His bad mood got worse when he entered the kitchen to find a steaming plate on the table waiting for him. He almost drooled—there were eggs, slices of bacon, hashbrowns, and pieces of toast—but he came to his senses.

Even though his mouth was watering, he picked the plate up and threw it out the window. (It was like his own personal trash can.) He grabbed a few Pop-Tarts, slammed them into the toaster and waited in tense silence until they heated up.

Angeal rolled his eyes and put a hand over his softly grumbling stomach. He had figured Cloud would do that, but had still thought it was worth a shot.

They had to keep trying.

Within an hour, Cloud was ready to scream. His ghosts had continued doing their 'nice things' to him, and he was _sick _of it. He had nearly shit his pants when a bottle had floated and squeezed soap onto his hands when he was about to wash them.

He had to get out—it felt like he couldn't breathe. Sneakers were hastily shoved onto his feet and he was out the door.

Once outside, Cloud breathed in the chilly air and calmed down a bit. He thought for a minute, figuring out what to do, then remembered Fenrir. Poor thing!

Cloud jogged into the forest, trying to find his way back to his bike. It had been a couple of days since he had deserted it; he was a changed man now. Hopefully Fenrir would still work for him, after he had so callously left it in the woods (Cloud firmly believed that Fenrir was _not _just a bike. It had moods too. And if it was unhappy with him (and he wouldn't blame it) then it wouldn't run.)

Moving at such a speed proved to be great exercise. Two months ago he would have been panting and gasping already, but now he was able to keep going, feeling more or less okay. Cloud blinked; he was becoming a big, sturdy_ mountain man_! The horror!

Fenrir was finally spotted in a clearing. It was a sorry sight; more paint had been chipped off, one handle had been chewed, and mold covered at least half of the candies on it. Cloud almost shed a tear.

But... was that a _raccoon_, licking a purple jolly rancher?

Cloud froze. Yes, that was indeed a raccoon. It was black and white and a little gray and it was licking a candy near Fenrir's seat like it was performing fellatio or something.

It turned its head and looked at him when Cloud took an enraged step forward. It had a challenging expression on its furry little face... what a bastard!

What if more raccoons came? A wolf or something, that came to eat the raccoon? A bear, that came to eat the wolf? A monster, that came to eat the bear!

It wasn't safe to be in the woods. He had to move quickly.

Cloud screamed at the raccoon, hoping to scare it away. It screamed back, little raccoon voice unbelievably high-pitched and making his ears ring and hurt, face screwed up in rage. Cloud jumped about a foot in the air and stared at it.

_Oh Gaia, what if it has _rabies_?_

Holding his breath, Cloud bounded forward and kicked. The raccoon whipped out a clawed paw and tried to gouge his ankle, but Cloud was too quick for it. His shoe struck the animal's side and he launched it into the woods. It hit a tree somewhere, and he didn't hear any more movement.

Shit... did he _kill _it? N-No, he didn't—it was just...sleeping...

Cloud hurried to Fenrir. There were little animal claw marks all over it, and raccoon slobber dripping down a jolly rancher and all over the side of the bike. Poor poor poor thing!

Cloud sat on it and started the engine. It sputtered almost pathetically, and Cloud's heart broke.

"Hey, Fenrir," he cooed, "I'm here, don't worry..."

The engine died. Cloud hastily patted the seat and murmured lovingly to it, and eventually the engine started again. Making his way back to the house was hard. Fenrir stalled six times and made all sorts of terrible noises when it did run. He was almost in tears when he pulled into the driveway, but held them in.

"It'll be okay, Fen," he sniffed. "I'll get you fixed up, and I'll never ever leave you out there again..."

He stumbled back into the house after apologizing profusely. Dispirited, he sank onto the couch and didn't move.

Tifa had called the previous night, saying she was going to stop by sometime and bring him around town. He had to meet the townspeople and get Strife Delivery Service's name out there somehow. It was really nice of Tifa to do this for him.

He lay there for a while, not really thinking about anything. His ghosts weren't doing anything; he was grateful for that.

Zack eyed the resting blond on the couch and had a marvelous idea. He looked tense. Zack knew he was great at giving massages... he could give Cloud one, and Cloud wouldn't hate them anymore and they could finally speak to him without scaring him and they'd become friends and all of their guilt would go away and they'd all be happy. A great plan!

He swooped, about to latch his hands onto Cloud's shoulders, but he was seized around the waist and held back.

"What are you doing?" Angeal whispered into his ear. Even though they constantly spoke at a pitch so low Cloud couldn't hear, the older man whispered.

"I was just gonna give 'em a massage," Zack answered struggling. Cloud blinked and shook his head a little—to him, when they spoke, it sounded like a subtle ringing in his ears or a slight buzzing.

"Zack," Angeal said in a grave voice, "We can't touch him yet. He's still scared of us—he might try to fight us again if we frighten him."

"I'm not gonna _scare _him, you'll see-"

"_Zack._"

Angeal led him away, but even though Zack appeared to give in, he was quite rebellious in his mind. Cloud's muscles were not safe from him!

Cloud yawned and put a pillow under his head. He felt like he was floating, not really involved with anything. Tired, too.

His cell phone rang from in the kitchen. It was probably Tifa, but he didn't wanna get up...

It floated out of the kitchen and came towards him. Cloud's eyes went wide with astonishment, and he stared like an idiot when it stopped before him, like someone was holding it out.

It continued to ring, and Cloud gulped before nervously taking it. Nothing else happened, and he sat nervously for a few seconds before finally answering.

"...H-Hello?"

"Hey, Cloud," Tifa's warm voice came through the speaker. "I'm almost at your house. Will you be ready when I get there?"

"Yeah," Cloud rasped.

"Okay! I'll see you in a bit."

"'Kay."

"Bye!"

"Bye."

Cloud hung up and was absolutely silent, hearing nothing but the ticking of that ever-present grandfather clock. Sephiroth frowned down at Cloud and waited another minute for anything to happen before smoothly returning to the kitchen.

When Tifa rang the doorbell, he nearly gave a shout of relief. He went to her, glad for a distraction.

Tifa didn't look at him; she was staring at Fenrir.

"...What-"

"Don't ask," Cloud said darkly.

Tifa caught the anger in his tone as he stared at his ruined motorcycle. She kept glancing at it but didn't ask any more questions.

The walk down the mountain was nearly as pleasant as it had been with Aerith. They chatted, and luckily, Cloud couldn't detect any jealousy on her part. That had been awkward. But she was her usual kind self, and Cloud liked that.

The first house they stopped at had smoke drifting out of a chimney. A fireplace. Sweet.

Tifa pushed him forward, and Cloud suddenly started to protest. He hadn't rehearsed or anything—

He found himself knocking, and then he couldn't run away. The door opened after a tense twenty or so seconds.

"Hello?" asked a confused-looking girl.

"...Um. Hi," Cloud said stupidly.

She stared, and when Cloud didn't say anything else, looked like she was about to shut the door on the scary man on her doorstep. Tifa came forward and elbowed him, and Cloud came to his senses. "Uh, I'm new in town, so I haven't met many people yet. I'm Cloud Strife... and I own a delivery service called, uh, well, Strife Delivery Service. If you ever need anything, I'm your man!"

He was sweating buckets by the time he finished. He smiled (but it was more like a grimace).

_How do door-to-door salesmen _do_ it?_

The girl blinked twice before giving a hesitant nod. She noticed Tifa and visibly relaxed, knowing Cloud couldn't be dangerous if the brunette was there.

"Hey Terra," Tifa greeted.

"...Hello, Tifa," Terra said back. "Um, Cloud, er, Mr. Strife—I'll remember you, thanks. And welcome to Nibelheim."

Cloud thanked her, said his goodbyes and backed the hell up. Tifa giggled at him. "That was terrible."

"I panicked, alright?"

"How are you supposed to get any customers if you creep them all out?"

Cloud growled at her, and Tifa laughed again. They kept walking, and she snapped her fingers. "Oh—Terra is Helga's cousin."

"Oh. That's nice."

With that they continued to the next house. Cloud cursed under his breath.

* * *

The task was daunting. Very daunting.

Genesis, Zack, Angeal and Sephiroth studied the interior of the mansion. This wouldn't be fun... but they had to do it.

The house was a wreck.

The phenomenal mess caused by the "war" had been sitting around for long enough. They could hardly move without walking on broken glass or stepping on dried paint. It would take ages to clean... but again, they had to do it.

"I don't even know where to start," Zack confessed.

Sephiroth frowned. "We need some sort of plan," he said, taking charge. He surveyed the other three men. "...I think it's best that Genesis and I fix Cloud's motorcycle." He looked guilty for a moment, then continued. "Angeal and Zackary—you two stay inside and do what you can. We'll join you when we're done."

They all agreed to that and went their separate ways. Genesis led the General outside, an he put his hands on his hips as he stared at Fenrir.

"...That's so gross," he said finally.

Sephiroth was not excited to be touching all those moldy, gross candies, but he had to.

They got to work. "What do we do about these?" Genesis asked, pointing to a jolly rancher. "Rip them off?"

They decided to use the hose. It would melt them, rather than peeling the paint off if they ripped them off. Genesis went to the shed, hooked the hose up to the side of the house and dragged the nozzle into the driveway.

After five minutes of spraying, they realized that the water wasn't working. It was chilly, so the water was freezing, and was it even safe to spray a motorcycle with water? The engine and inner workings were getting wet...

They tossed it aside and stared yanking the candies off. Each one came away with pitch black paint on one side, leaving odd rectangular patches all over the bike.

Who knew those things could cause so much damage?

Genesis grimaced once Fenrir was half-cleaned up. The ugly silver rectangles were clearly a problem. After talking it over, they agreed that Sephiroth would run into town and would try to steal some paint somewhere. He grumbled but agreed, leaving Genesis to continue to pull the candies off.

The redhead waved him away and continued working. His fingers hurt, and he wanted to stop, but he wouldn't. Poor blond's bike was damn near ruined.

It was weird, not having such murderous thoughts about him. One day he might even have _fond _thoughts, Genesis realized. With luck, Cloud would go back to Midgar and they'd be able to live out their lives happily and alone with each other, but hey. He'd make the most out of the current situation.

Sephiroth rummaged through a citizen of Nibelheim's rusty shelves, feeling ridiculous. Here he was, the (ex) General of the Shin-Ra army, looking for paint in an unnamed person's dirty, spider-infested garage!

He squatted and peered at a can of paint. White... no, he didn't want that. He found a can of black paint, but it was extremely low quality. That wouldn't do; Fenrir was a beautiful, gleaming piece of machinery.

Eventually he gave up and moved onto another house. Crouching next to lawn mowers and stepping on rakes (and just barely avoiding the ensuing smack in the face with the rake's handle) was not his idea of a good time—after five unsuccessful houses he was grumbling under his breath and was about to kill something.

His brilliant, genius mind finally kicked in and he started towards the tiny hardware store in town, tucked behind a beauty salon and a thrift shop.

Sephiroth frowned at the door. To get inside and nab some paint, he'd have to open it. Doors didn't open all by themselves...

He went inside anyway. The bells hooked to the top of the door chimed, and the business owner's head popped up from behind a shelf. Of course, Sephiroth knew he couldn't be seen, but he still felt a little unnerved when the man's eyes looked right into him.

"What the hell," he said flatly, returning to a hunting magazine.

Sephiroth sneered at him and rooted through the store until he found the paint. There were boring colors that he'd never put in any place he lived (the freaky purples and blues and reds of the mansion bothered him as it was). There was black, but it was the same crappy kind he had found in that person's garage.

On a shelf in the middle of the paint section were ten cans. A bright light shone directly down on them. Sephiroth nearly chocked on his own spit when he saw the price.

_Seven-hundred Gil? For one can of paint!_

Brightly-colored stickers announced that the cans were, '_Imported From The Great City of Midgar!' _and '_Worth Every Gil!' _He could've gotten the same thing in Midgar for a fifth of the price. Scamming, little nowhere-town shop owners—

The paint was for metals. There was a sample off to the side; the little piece of scrap steel glittered and shone. Perfect.

How did he make off with it, though? Floating cans of paint would certainly arouse suspicion.

Five minutes later, he had a plan. Carefully, Sephiroth climbed over the counter, inched behind the man, took firm hold of a metal rack holding the more expensive tools that were kept away from the average customer, and tugged. The metal bent and ripped—nothing was a match for a SOLDIER's strength—and with a tremendous racket, everything on the shelves fell.

Sephiroth vaulted back over the counter before he could get hit and brought down another nearby shelf. In the confusion, Sephiroth seized every last can and ran like hell. He quickly made it to the woods, hoping no one had seen.

"Mommy!"

Sephiroth froze, hiding behind a tree after a short pause and peering out of the forest. A little girl was yelling to her mother, who stood a short distance away. "Mommy!" the girl called, "I just saw floating-"

"That's nice, Annabelle," the mom said, not paying one ounce of attention to her daughter. "Come on, now!"

Annabelle reluctantly followed her retreating mother, and Sephiroth sighed softly with relief. Holding all these things was more than a bit uncomfortable, so he quickly started back for the mansion.

Genesis looked up when he heard Sephiroth's footsteps. The ex-General scowled and dropped enough paint to coat a house at his feet.

"...Where'd you find all that?"

Sephiroth grunted and went inside to find a paintbrush.

In the kitchen, Zack was keeping up a steady stream of curses as he swept up old, broken glass. Cleaning... he hated cleaning...

Zack dumped the now-glittery, full dustpan into the trash. He mopped the floor and unhappily trudged to Cloud's bathroom. Angeal had him doing stuff like this while he scrubbed the paint out of the carpet. Boring!

There was glass all over the place. Zack sighed and began cleaning that up too, nicking his finger on a shard and cursing bitterly.

Downstairs, Angeal frowned. Now that he was cleaning it up, there was an awful lot of paint everywhere, more than he had originally thought. His arms felt like jelly so he had gotten out the shampooer from a closet on the second floor. This was much easier.

About two hours into their work, Sephiroth came inside. He gave Angeal a brief, tired smile and left to get something.

This was all very boring, tedious work, but they had to do it. Spirits in the house were low, but if Cloud was happy and forgave them after this, they'd be happy too. Angeal still had nightmares about what he had done every night; the day they stopped would be a great day indeed.

After Zack cleaned up the glass, he moved on to the IcyHot still sitting on one of the bathroom toilet seats. Gross! The only really _fun _thing he got to do was mow. He got to sit on the beast of a mower and be outside for a while, secretly watching Genesis and Sephiroth sand and re-paint Cloud's bike.

Angeal, when _finally _finished cleaning up the inside of the mansion, dragged himself into the kitchen. He was sick of making food that went to waste—wait, dammit, one of them had to replace that broken window Cloud kept throwing food out of—but he couldn't give up.

Zack's 'snickerdoodle' comment earlier made Angeal make some. He actually loved to bake, something that only three certain people knew. Cookies would probably go over well with Cloud (as long as he didn't think there was peanut butter in them), but there was one problem...

..._Sephiroth._

Angeal put an oven mitt in a drawer, and when he turned back around, three of the steaming, right-from-the-oven cookies were missing. He spotted a trail of silver hair quickly disappear around the corner.

Cloud had better appreciate all he did for him.

* * *

Now that he had finished introducing himself around town, Cloud felt a lot better. He hadn't spoken to everybody, of course, but a good number. They had tried to talk to the guy who owned the Nibelheim version of a Wall Market Depot, but he was still raving about faulty shelves and stolen paint and blah blah blah, so they left him alone.

Now he and Tifa were seated at a little table outside a small coffee shop. Both sipped strawberry-banana smoothies; Cloud was on his third.

Tifa was filling him in on his delivery for the next day. It turned out that his destination was the same city he had bought the flyswatter and the other war supplies in. He had to give a package to a 'Mr. Dick' and pick up some shot glasses from some bar.

"Shot glasses?"

Tifa smiled. "I want to open my own bar some day," she said shyly.

Cloud nodded encouragingly, "If I ever need to get drunk, I know where I'll be going." Tifa kicked his shin under the table.

As they started back towards home, Cloud felt very peaceful. Then he remembered what he was returning home to, and his mood turned dark. He declined Tifa's offer to come inside her house and 'maybe meet her old man' (he wasn't going anywhere near her father—that was too much... just too much).

When he finally returned to the mansion, he expected to see the usual depressing sights and go to sleep or something. He hadn't expected what was waiting for him in the driveway.

Fenrir was there in all its glory. It gleamed. No more candies. No more animal poo. As good as new.

Cloud stood completely still for a minute, then dissolved into helpless tears. He collapsed next to his bike and hugged it, bawling like a little kid.

"...He is _so weird_," Zack said softly, maybe a hint of fondness in his voice. He elbowed Genesis. "Feel all proud and accomplished?"

"Not really," Genesis said a little too dismissively, folding his arms and looking away. Sephiroth smiled and kissed the redhead on the corner of the mouth.

Cloud cried until he couldn't cry any more, then climbed onto the seat and started the engine. Fenrir roared into action and then kept up a steady purr. Cloud sobbed—his motorcycle was back!

Cloud drove Fenrir back down and up the huge, winding driveway twice. Fenrir seemed glad to see him and drove perfectly. Cloud parked Fenrir, turned it off, put down the kickstand and had to collect himself, wiping his eyes and sniffling. Zack cooed at that, and almost as if Cloud had heard, he stiffened.

_Wait..._

He had been so caught up in the moment he hadn't thought about exactly how Fenrir had gotten fixed. The ghosts...?

Cloud slid off Fenrir, gulped, and entered the house. He stopped walking and stared.

The mansion was clean. Sparkling. The paint previously ground into the carpet was gone, as were the broken picture frames and vases. It felt like a mansion again, the same one that had made him gape in awe when he first moved in.

Cloud examined the whole house appreciatively. No more mess—even the glass in his bathroom was gone! He could use it again.

In the kitchen sat a plate with one lone snickerdoodle cookie on it. (Angeal sent Sephiroth a positively evil look.) The previous 'cookie incident' resurfaced in Cloud's mind, and he was consumed by rage.

Was this another peace offering! They hadn't accepted _his _cookies; they expected him to accept _theirs_? The ghosts must have been serious about being sorry if they cleaned the mansion and fixed Fenrir, but was he about to forgive them? No! They had tried to _kill him!_

This cookie probably had peanuts in it! His first impulse was to throw it out the window (and, he realized, the window had been replaced so that wouldn't work), but... he thought he'd do the ghosts a minor favor. They had cleaned Fenrir, after all. Rather than chucking it, he left it sitting on the plate and refused to look at it. Hmph!

Cloud turned on his heel, livid, and tried to prepare for the delivery the next day. It would take his mind off the spirits, if nothing else. The only thing he could really do was pick out his clothes and get a jacket ready. When that was done Cloud was at a complete loss as to how to spend his time.

Television seemed like a good thing to do, so he mindlessly watched a movie about witches... or something. It was about a week until Halloween, so scary movies were everywhere. It eventually ended and some X-rated, bloody gore torture movie began. Cloud was a complete wimp when it came to scary things and immediately wanted to change the channel. But... the remote was on the complete other side of the couch...

The remote zoomed into his fingers. Cloud froze, and eventually switched to something more up his alley, but he was Not Happy.

That night, the toothpaste 'squirted itself' onto his toothbrush for him. Cloud's patience snapped, he roared, "Leave me alone!" and darted into his bedroom. All four invisible men were exhausted and tired of doing unappreciated things for Cloud. They had to keep trying, though—SOLDIERs never gave up. Ever. If they had, they probably wouldn't have survived Hojo.

With that sobering thought, they went to bed too.

Cloud woke up the next morning in a foul mood. Luckily, his clothes didn't try to pick themselves out, so his morning was at least better than the previous one.

This ended when he was brushing his teeth. A hair brush floated towards his head in a way that could only be called menacing.

_It'll rip my hair out!_

Cloud screamed and threw a roll of toilet paper at the brush. He unplugged a hair dryer from the wall and threw that too, then escaped.

Even though his hair was a mess and he was hungry, cloud left the house. Nothing was worth staying in there for another minute.

Cloud swung a leg over Fenrir and nearly floored it, but the sound of the front door opening made him look back. A brown paper bag drifted through the air. Cloud's stomach growled.

He employed a new tactic of his, which was complete, utter denial.

_No... the packed lunch is _not _floating towards me... it's not, it's not, it's not..._

It waved temptingly in front of his face and Cloud snatched it out of the air with a poisonous look. He carelessly tossed it into a storage compartment and took off.

Every foot Cloud put between himself and the mansion eased his heart a little. He was out in nature on Fenrir—his new, beautiful, fixed Fenrir—what more could a guy ask for?

He'd deal with all the shit at home later; right now, he just wanted to focus on the wind in his spikes.

There was a quick stop at Tifa's to pick up her package, whatever the hell it was, and for a quick good-bye hug. Then he was back on the bike, speeding out of Nibelheim. It looked like that shop owner was still freaking out—what the hell had happened, anyway?

Cloud shrugged and hummed to himself until he was out in the countryside and away from all the staring people. Granted, the staring wasn't as bad as it had been when Fenrir had been covered in candy, but it was still annoying.

Mr. Dick—Cloud couldn't stop snickering at that—turned out to be the President of some smart environmental company. Tifa had given him the name of the business the previous day, and he waltzed inside, looking very important in his 'Strife Delivery Service' hat he pulled out of the storage compartment and with a clipboard under one arm. He had a receptionist sign it to keep track of all transactions, then gave Mr. Dick his package—Cloud giggled—by slotting the package into the President's mailbox in a room on the second floor. Easy enough.

Cloud exited the building, only to stop and gawk at two SOLDIERs talking on the sidewalk. They were fully uniformed, and Cloud immediately tried to look busy. He pretended to scribble on his clipboard as he listened in on their conversation.

After listening for a minute or two he recognized them: Second Class Kunsel and Second Class Luxiere. Both looked bored, like they didn't want to be stationed in the middle of nowhere.

Kunsel pointed to a pair of teenagers doing squats across the street. They seemed to be runners, warming up for a work out. "Hah, Zack would've loved to see this," he said, voice full of amusement.

Luxiere snickered, then stared at his feet. Kunsel patted him on the shoulder. "I miss him," Luxiere said softly. "Everyone else in his fanclub refuses to think he's gone, but it's been years, y'know?"

Kunsel slung an arm around Luxiere's neck and started dragging him down the street. "I do too, man. Zack wouldn't have been killed by that madman... and neither would the others. Cheer up!"

Cloud frowned as they left. Zack? Must've been some SOLDIER that went MIA or something. Sad stuff... He shot a last envious look at their retreating backs and got back onto Fenrir.

The shot glasses Tifa wanted were waiting at some high-end bar whose occupants wouldn't stop _staring _at him. Cloud nervously got his clipboard filled out and signed, grabbed the shot glasses and scurried out. As he carefully secured the box to the back of Fenrir, he wondered how many of the shot glasses would be used as planchettes in Ouija board séances.

Laughing at his own ridiculous life, Cloud got back on Fenrir and drove home.

"Tifa!" Cloud called happily, knocking at her front door. "I'm back!"

The door swung open, revealing Tifa with her hair up and her sleeves pushed down to her elbows. She grinned, accepted the box and gently placed it down on a table. Her house was cozy and nice, nothing like the mansion but great in its own way. Cloud was wary of her father, the Mayor, but he didn't seem to be around.

"Thank you so much, Cloud," Tifa said, wiping her hands on a towel and hugging him. It was... perhaps a bit more than sisterly. Cloud knew he had to gently tell her he wasn't interested, but... he'd do it later. He was enjoying her friendship too much to risk losing it.

Cloud extracted himself, smiled, told her to keep up the good dishwashing work and split. The second he entered the mansion he collapsed onto a couch, ready to go sleep for a million years. He was tired, but in a good way. He had worked, and he had earned money!

He did his best to relax, turning on the television. His muscles were tight and he yawned, trying to work the kinks out of his back and shoulders.

Zack looked left and right before pouncing. They were alone; his three older lovers were busy doing something outside, so no one could hold him back this time. Cloud looked tense again; Zack dropped onto the couch behind Cloud, put his hands on warm shoulders and got down to business.

Cloud absolutely _melted. _Zack held his breath as he dug his thumbs into the tense muscles near Cloud's shoulder blades. The blond's head flopped to the side and he exhaled softly.

_Wow... he's okay with it!_

Zack happily continued giving Cloud a massage, really thinking this was working out. Cloud pretty much resembled a puddle of goo, and man, this kid _was _really wound up.

Cloud realized suddenly, through a hazy, pleasured brain, that _a ghost was touching him! _

He yelled and swung a fist right into Zack's nose, kicking and pummeling and bashing with all his strength.

Zack clutched his nose and managed to fend off Cloud. He cupped two hands over his face to catch the blood gushing everywhere and sprinted into the kitchen.

The others heard the ruckus and came inside. Cloud was enraged, swinging his fists into thin air and screeching about something. Zack was hunched over the kitchen sink, blood dripping down from a broken nose into the basin. They could all guess what happened.

Angeal sighed and went to help the Puppy out of his latest mess.

One week had passed since the day of his delivery. It had been one of the worst weeks of his life. Why didn't those stupid ghosts just... leave him the hell _alone_? He was _sooo _sick of putting up with their crap.

Cloud clutched his cell phone, huddled into a small corner of his bedroom. It was ringing, and Cloud desperately hoped he was alone in his room.

"Hello?"

"Aerith!" Cloud hissed. "It's awful!"

"What's awful? The spirits haven't done anything, have they?"

"That's just it! They're not being mean anymore, they're being _nice_! They just won't _stop!_"

"...What-"

"They keep helping me, Aerith!" Cloud said hurriedly, voice a frantic whisper. "They pick out my clothes and they do my dishes and they tie my shoes—I almost wish they were trying to kill me again!"

The earful he got from the usually-sweet girl made him wish he had never called. When he finally escaped and hung up, Cloud exhaled and dug his palms into his eyes.

He was so stressed... he really needed to relax. What to do?

His newly-cleaned bathroom was calling to him. A bath sounded nice—a warm, bubbly bath in the jacuzzi in the middle of the bathroom. Excited, Cloud entered the bathroom. He shot the shower a dark look and eyed the various knobs of the jacuzzi. There was a little pillow that he could rest his head on; it looked great!

Cloud eagerly shut the bathroom door, hearing a subtle noise and feeling a soft breeze as he did so. Cloud frowned, but figured it was the air conditioning or something. He shut the door firmly and immediately stripped. He stretched and ambled over to the jacuzzi, fiddling with the taps.

While it filled up, Cloud inspected his face in the mirror. He bent over the sink and stood on tiptoes, looking at his eyes. There were bags under him Eww! He needed to get more sleep. Cloud flexed too, grinning at the chest muscles he was getting. All this fighting for his life stuff was doing wonders for his physique.

He filled the water with a spicy, yummy-smelling bubble bath and walked around, humming and looking at the paintings on the walls while he waited. A lot of it was nature-ish stuff...huh.

The water was deemed ready when he didn't shiver when he stuck a toe into it. He got a washcloth and a towel ready and lowered himself into the water.

It was warm, soothing... just heavenly. Cloud smiled dreamily and let out a blissful sigh. All his stress was melting away..

He drew a knee to his chest. He giggled—what a lewd position!—but shrugged it off (he was all alone, no need to be embarrassed) and checked it for bruises. It had been hurting him. He found none, luckily, and lay still for a moment before reaching for the washcloth.

He leant towards the soap, but it was unnecessary. Cloud looked on, shocked, as the body wash floated over to him, turned upside down, and deposited some blue gel in his hand. It was re-capped, and then he felt shampoo fall onto his spikes. Fingers delved into his hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Cloud was completely frozen.

The hand in his hair combed through his spikes slowly. He felt breath on his ear, and a hand closed over his, guiding his actions and smearing the body wash over his chest.

Cloud shrieked, flailing and waving all his limbs in a panic. His fist hit something hard, and he repeatedly struck the same spot, covering himself up with the other hand.

_It saw me naked!_

The horror! The embarrassment! Cloud splashed water everywhere, hollered and thrashed until the bathroom door was flung open and he heard retreating footsteps.

Genesis ran from the bathroom, both (now soapy) hands clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't start laughing hysterically. He was soaking wet and looked wild, and when he sprinted into where the others were, they couldn't stop staring.

"...What did you do?" Angeal asked, lowering the book he had been reading.

Genesis explained, barely able to get the words out through his laughter. He had snuck in there, sat on the toilet and watched Cloud prepare for his bath, then had 'assisted' in the cleaning process.

"I thought he would appreciate it!" Genesis defended. Zack laughed along with him, and Sephiroth shook his head, smiling. They could hear Cloud still screaming and making noise upstairs. Poor kid.

Genesis snickered at the ceiling, then exclaimed, "Oh! And if I rated his ass on a scale of one to ten... I'd give it a fourteen."

"...Too much info, Gen. Really."

Cloud was so furious, he trembled and shook. A few days had passed since the bathroom incident... and things had only gotten worse! They wouldn't _stop_! This was worse than before! They just wouldn't—why—!

He pushed away the glass of water shoved into his face and snatched his cell phone out of the air. It never stopped—constantly things were zooming towards him, never ceasing! This wasn't the way to get someone to forgive you!

Cloud snapped. He clenched his eyes shut and roared, "Leave me ALONE! Just _stop_!" He finally, _finally _spoke his mind, putting those goddamned ghosts in their place. He told them exactly what he thought of their endless favors, how much he hated them, and he told them how he wished they just _died_.

...Shocked, the four older men looked at each other.

It was obvious that everything they had done was for naught—Cloud never would forgive them. They'd be stuck with this guilt forever.

They still wanted to try to persuade Cloud, get him to come around, but... it was useless. Maybe it _was _better if they just... disappeared, for a little while. Until Cloud calmed down.

Cloud clenched his fists in rage and waited. After a minute he felt lighter, less... oppressed, though it may have just been his imagination. The mansion felt bigger. Emptier. Scarier, but in a different way.

For the first time since moving to Nibelheim, Cloud felt completely, truly, utterly alone.


	15. Spin the Bottle

**Tobi: Yo! Thanks to MizuYousei (1,050!) and honeyberries (1,100!). and, look, finally! WARNING: MAAAAANLOOOOOOOOVE! ...Finally. :D OH! WARNING: random people ahead! Yes, everyone is in this chapter. I apologize for our freakishness; you can ignore all the Dissidia characters if you want.  
**

**CM: Hi guys. Man this week was so rough on me. I'm pretty sure many of you are gonna enjoy this chapter... :D Go on now. Read.**

* * *

For some reason, it felt like he was being watched.

In Midgar, when you were out in public, you were always being watched or glanced at, but that was normal. This persistent, uncomfortable prickling on the back of his neck was making him more than a little suspicious.

He wasn't up to much. He had just visited Aerith and Denzel below the plate, and now he was on his way back to his apartment. Strolling along on the sidewalk seemed perfectly safe, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he _wasn't _safe.

The odd feeling lingered and even strengthened after he turned a corner. Cloud sped up, uneasy.

About fifteen seconds later, he was roughly grabbed from behind. A hand clamped over his mouth and Cloud immediately started to struggle, but then he was stuffed into the passenger seat of a car before he could do anything. The hands disappeared, something cold closed over his wrist, and then he heard the slamming of his door.

Cloud's eyes, which had previously been clenched shut in fear, snapped open. The shiny ring of a set of handcuffs glinted; he was cuffed to a metal bar on the ceiling of the car. A man with the reddest hair he had ever seen was in the driver's seat, pointing a gun directly at his chest. "Stay still for me, alright?" he said in a voice that seemed to be calm, but had an undertone of growing panic. He was adjusting and flicking switches and checking the mirrors of the high-tech car they were in.

With a gun in his face, he really wasn't thinking about trying to run. Cloud gave a frantic nod, mouth glued shut in fear. The redhead kept the gun pointed at him and brought the car to life.

_I'm being kidnapped! Why hasn't anyone come to my rescue yet! Didn't anybody see me get thrown in here! Holy shit!_

Cloud pressed against the wall of the car, eyes wide. A steady stream of curses flew through his head. Oh, he was too young to die—

The car abruptly flew into motion. Cloud jerked and hit the back of his seat. The hard cuff dug into his wrist, and he let out a small yip of pain. The redhead drove like a madman, going at least forty miles over the speed limit. Oh jeez... he was trying to run from the law!

Cloud finally found his voice. "What's going on! Where are you taking me!"

His kidnapper didn't answer; he kept the gun pointed at him and drove with the other hand. He was wearing a suit. A Turk.

_I'm being abducted by the Turks! I'm so dead!_

The wail of sirens came from behind them. A chopper was overhead somewhere. ...This was bad. Very bad. The man cursed and sped up even more; he weaved through cars and went through stoplights like a crazed drunk.

"Hey!" Cloud shouted. He struggled a little, cuffs rattling against the bar on the ceiling. The man glanced at him briefly before going back to driving; a few seconds later his head snapped back onto him.

"You're not the target!" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"What target!" Cloud was nearly in tears. A cop car came at their right side, and they sped up, skidded and shot towards an alley near a pizza shop to avoid it.

"Dammit!" the man swore. "Fuckin' cops. I knew I shouldnt've taken this mission!"

Cloud yelled when _bullets _rained down on them. The back windshield exploded and sprayed glass onto them, and a huge dent appeared in the roof almost directly over Cloud's head.

"Fuck! Alright, calm down, yo! I'll get us out of this. Hold on tight!" He flipped a plastic covering over a switch up and flicked it up. Something in the hood of the car whined, and, like there was a rocket on the back of the car, they zoomed forward so fast Cloud was pressed into the back of the seat and couldn't breathe. Lights and cars melded together in one long blur. The redhead whooped and hollered the whole time, and after about a minute, they slowed back down to a normal speed. They were out of Midgar, speeding down a highway that was suspiciously empty. The man jerked on the brakes, and Cloud went flying forward, cuff digging into his wrist so much he felt it cut in.

"Whew! That was awesome, yo!" The man turned to him, grinning. Cloud was silent, hair a mess, eyes huge, blood trickling down his forearm. The man's smile fell. "Uh, hey—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kidnap _you, _alright? You just look like the guy I was supposed to get..."

His phone rang, and he answered. Cloud very clearly heard someone scream, _"RENO!" _

The man winced. "Look—this mission was fucked up from the start, alright? Don't—"

Cloud listened to the conversation, shaking with rage. Eventually he shouted, interrupting Reno's long list of excuses, "Let me go!" He rattled his aching arm and sputtered incomprehensibly. There weren't words for how angry he was!

Reno hurriedly uncuffed him, whistling when he saw the damage. Cloud wrapped his hand in his shirt and glared.

"Uh, look," Reno sighed. "I'm a Turk, so don't think about doing anything funny."

_I wasn't going to. _Out loud Cloud spat, after saying a few choice words that made the man's eyes widen, "You better take me back to Midgar. If you're really a Turk-" he made sure his voice was dripping in scorn and disbelief, "-then I know enough people to get you fired in no time flat."

Reno's eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

Cloud smirked, looking a lot more confident and tough than he felt. "Am I? Rufus Shin-Ra is my cousin. And if I'm not mistaken, he's ultimately in charge of the Turks."

Reno choked. He critically inspected Cloud's face for almost a minute before whistling again. "Midgar, here we come," he muttered. "Oh, but we can't take this car back. The cops are after it. Long story, don't ask—complete lack of Turk protocol involved, yo."

Cloud grunted, and Reno unlocked the car. They scrambled out, and Reno led him across the highway (it was odd walking on it and not seeing any cars) to a motorcycle hidden behind a small shack about forty feet from the road. Immediately Cloud tensed and debated walking the gazillion miles back, but had to decide against it in the end. Reno sat on it and dangled the helmet out.

"You coming, blondie?"

Cloud growled and perched on the seat behind Reno. The man smushed the helmet onto his head, making a comment about "rich boys and their soft skulls."

"I'm dirt poor," Cloud murmured, hesitantly putting his hands on Reno's shoulders.

Reno snickered. "You've gotta hold on tighter than that, yo. You're gonna fall off. No skin off my back if you die, but I figured I'd tell you."

Cloud grumbled and hugged the man's chest tightly, squeezing so hard when Reno shot forward the man had to elbow him so he could breathe. The ride back was considerably less exciting than before. Cloud wondered why a helicopter had been shooting at them but didn't ask.

"So, what's your name?"

"Cloud," he unhappily said into the other's ear.

"Weird name, yo."

"Reno's a stupid name."

They continued to bicker as they re-entered the city limits. Reno had to enter a different way from where they had left; Cloud now saw exploded rock sitting all over the ground. There had been an explosion. Twisted Turks.

Cloud pointed out the way back home, and Reno dropped him off in front of an apartment complex. It wasn't where he lived, but one a few blocks away from his house. He didn't want a creep Turk with a gun knowing where he lived. Cloud glared fiercely and turned to leave, but the redhead called him back.

"...Hey. I guess I'll stop by in a few days to check up on you, make sure you're alright. I'll have some guys stake you out, just to make sure you aren't being targeted 'cause of this little mishap or nothin'."

Alarmed now, Cloud could only nod.

Reno winked at him. "Take care, Cloud."

Cloud lifted a hand in farewell, and Reno drove off.

_...That was weird._

He walked home and cleaned his wrist up, bandaging it and cursing. Stupid Turk! What a waste of an hour of his life... but it had been fun, he'd admit, even though he had been about to pee himself for over half of it.

A year later, when Reno and Cloud thought about how they first met, they could only laugh.

* * *

...It was much quieter than usual in the library. The air seemed stiller, the dusty air seemed more oppressive because it _wasn't _oppressive, and the tall bookshelves seemed more foreboding than they used to. It was... a curious experience.

_Mako _was risky to read. Before he never would have dared read it anywhere other than his bedroom, but now that the ghosts were gone, he felt brave enough to read it in a more comfortable spot. Still, he had the cover pressed against his thighs so it couldn't be seen. He didn't quite believe that they were gone. Four ghosts... they had actually left? Because of him? Really?

A war and they were still around. One little screaming match, and they disappeared! Cloud felt kind of... cheated. Talk about anti-climatic.

He shook his head and returned to reading. After a week or so of being totally alone, he was desperate for information, to get closer to the ghosts and figure them out. Where had they come from? What did they want? Why did they suddenly decide to listen to him and leave him alone? He had questions, and he wouldn't stop looking until he found his answers.

He didn't _miss _them though. No way! That would be stupid. He didn't miss the ghosts, but he did sort of miss the excitement that came along with them.

Cloud sighed. _Mako _was talking about some sort of experiment now. A syringe with some horrible dimensions for the needle, restraints, a scalpel... he was creeped out, most definitely. What was worse was that parts were written in the first person. He could practically hear Hojo's slimy voice say the words. "_If I am successful, I could then check the variability in erythrocyte counts and the viscosity of the plasma samples for signs of..."_

Hojo. Without a doubt, the man had been involved in human experimentation. Again, Cloud was getting the feeling that there was more to his ghosts than he originally thought. But... invisible humans? That seemed to be a bit of a stretch.

Some things didn't match up. He had four ghosts. Hojo talked about having five main subjects. But, some things made an eerie amount of sense. Hojo specifically mentioned a laboratory in Nibelheim more than once. The creepy tunnel he had found in the coffin room appeared in his mind's eye with strange clarity.

The library now seemed too big, too scary. Cloud shivered and moved back upstairs to his bedroom, where it at least felt safer. The whole mansion seemed cold and still, like it was waiting for something. In all the ghost shows he had ever seen, people always talked about the amazing feeling of warmth and peace that came over their home after the spirit that had been torturing them was driven away. Cloud's situation was exactly the opposite. The life seemed to be sucked out of the mansion.

Cloud lay down and continued to read. His blond brows drew together as he learned more secrets. ...Who had Hojo let read this book? If anyone normal, and not a mad, insane scientist got their hands on _Mako, _Hojo would have been in jail in the blink of an eye. It was a little horrifying.

When he couldn't bear to read any more, Cloud tossed the book to the floor and stared at the ceiling. Maybe there _were _invisible humans in his mansion. Why hadn't they spoken to him? What was their beef with him to start with?

He had so many questions.

For a while, Cloud entertained the thought of being invisible. That would be really fun. Imagine all the stuff he could do to people! He could play tricks on them, take their stuff, pretend to be a ghost... and holy crap, maybe he really _did _have invisible people in his house! That was exactly what happened to him! But really... he could do a whole lot of cool stuff.

Cloud wrinkled his nose as a totally gross thought crossed his mind. Eww. He thought about it, though. If you were invisible, you could get away with a lot of things... and that included activities of a sexual nature. Gaia, he was a sick fuck if he thought about being fucked by ghosts. Well, certainly not _his _ghosts—as they were assholes who deserved to rot in hell—but ghosts in general. That was kind of interesting, actually.

His breathing sped up, and Cloud mentally kicked himself. Getting excited over something like this! But 'invisibility' must have been a secret fetish of his, because the more he thought about it, the more he was... interested.

There was something exciting about being touched with hands that he couldn't see, and something thrilling about not knowing where the next touch would be or where it would come from. (Reno always did like blindfolding him, and he had never complained.) It had been so long since he had indulged a little bit—not since he had moved in! Gaia, he could barely be called a man.

"I am so fucked up," Cloud breathed as he glanced down at his crotch. It agreed with him.

Cloud winced and let the fantasy unfold in his head, then gave in and lowered his hand.

* * *

Of course, the Invisibles had no intention of leaving the mansion. They still considered it theirs, after all. They were still around, but they were giving Cloud his space. Lots of it. If he entered a room, they left it. If Cloud came outside, they went inside. It was annoying and tried their patience, but they kept this new system going.

They left no traces, they made no noise, nothing. They hung around, though, making sure Cloud was more or less okay and not killing himself or lighting the house on fire or anything. That would have been bad.

Today they planned on spending some time on the balcony of the third floor. It was a nice place to sit and look out at the mountains. Soon it would be too cold to do anything like that, so they got it in while they could.

Cloud was in his bedroom; earlier he had stopped reading in the library and went there. It was sort of a habit to check in on him, and as they passed Cloud's room on the way up, Sephiroth peeked in. The door was open a few inches.

The General stopped short and didn't budge. The other three came back, squeezing to see whatever Cloud was doing that made Sephiroth pause.

All four got an eyeful of an arched back, a pumping hand and thrusting fingers before they all stumbled over themselves and fell back into the hallway. Angeal tripped over Zack's foot and actually did fall, hitting the ground with a thud. Cloud didn't hear it, but that wasn't a surprise.

"Goddess!" Genesis exclaimed softly, backing away from the door. Zack swore and danced down the hallway, jumping into the next room and poking his head back into the hallway like a scolded pet. Silence.

Angeal got up, flashed a horrified look at the others and continued on his way upstairs, but at a considerably faster pace than before. The others quickly followed. Once outside, they were quiet. Embarrassment seeped out of their pores like slime. ...Cloud really must have felt sure that they were really gone.

"...You know," Genesis said, ignoring his bright red face, "We should have expected to see something like this. I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner."

Angeal snorted and laughed deeply for a few seconds. Zack snickered and said to Genesis, "Hey. I know what you meant about a fourteen, though."

Sephiroth kicked him in the shin for that.

* * *

The watermelon didn't stand a chance. Cloud viciously cut it into pieces, frowning. This whole _alone _thing was getting to him. For about two weeks now... nothing. His days were filled with reading _Mako _and watching television. Nothing fun. Nothing exciting. Nothing weird. It was scary, actually—being alone obviously wasn't his thing.

There were plenty of things to do, true. But working out in the basement was getting old. There was only so many sports one could play by oneself without someone else; tennis was one of them, since he didn't have a wall to bounce anything off of. Cloud tried—he really did—to entertain himself, but it just wasn't working. If he had to watch another movie by himself he would _scream_. He wanted to be with people; he wanted to interact with someone, but he couldn't.

Cloud accidentally dropped the knife on the floor. The sharp sound it made as it hit _echoed _in the house. ...That wasn't normal. This whole freaking mansion was silent and empty and scarier than it ever had been.

He ate the fruit at the dining table, getting juice all over his chin and fingers but not really caring. Just a couple weeks ago, a whole roll of paper towels would have found their way to his face, but now not even the napkin in front of him moved. Cloud sighed and wiped his face.

Tifa had called and suggested he throw a Halloween party, as the holiday was just around the corner. His original plan was to eat candy and try not to watch scary movies, but this sounded more fun. Only Aerith had seen the mansion so far. His other friends had been badgering him, begging to be invited over. Now he could shut them all up.

It was a good idea. He wouldn't be by himself. He'd get to see the friends he hadn't hung out with for months. He'd be able to stop thinking about those damned ghosts too.

Smiling, Cloud cleaned up and called Tifa. She was as excited as he was about it, and once they agreed to get together the next day and buy decorations, he hung up and began calling everyone else.

The mansion was no longer a quiet, still place. Tifa and Cloud sucked Nibelheim dry—very fitting, Cloud thought, given that it was almost Halloween—and spent days decorating the mansion. A good number of people told him they could come, but Cloud prepared for more than that. People just loved to show up to things uninvited. It had happened before.

"Oh man," Zack said excitedly, examining a huge fake cobweb Cloud had put in the foyer, "I love Halloween." He itched to help the blond decorate, but knew he couldn't. They were supposed to be "gone," after all. It was a shame.

"We know you do," Angeal said fondly, drawing the younger male into a brief kiss. Zack had been chattering about the thirty-first endlessly for weeks.

Sephiroth was outside, nervously hovering beneath the ladder Cloud was standing on. Cloud was hanging giant fake spiders. He wasn't the most coordinated person, they had gathered, thus Sephiroth's concern. He'd catch him if he fell, though that would certainly have some bad after-effects.

Once Cloud and Tifa finished decorating, Tifa stayed away for a few days to make her costume and do bar-related stuff. That was fine with Cloud; he spent the whole day before the party cooking without distractions. He made all sorts of things that could be heated up in the oven before the party; no one would know.

When Cloud opened up the oven and bent over to stick the tray inside, he was consumed by fear. If this had been just a few weeks ago, he'd be dead, shoved into it like the witch from Hansel and Gretel.

The fact that he was still _alone _resurfaced when nothing happened, and he started cooking the food without incident.

..._Dammit._

That night it was even harder to sleep than it had been with the ghosts around. He didn't know why, but it was. He was nearly shaking; nothing had happened in so long, he was convinced something bad would happen as soon as he closed his eyes. He'd be cut in half or smothered or beaten to death... it was a completely irrational fear, but Cloud was terrified. He did eventually manage to fall asleep, and when he did, Zack made sure to fix his sheets. Stupid paranoid kid had nearly kicked them off.

The next day was Halloween. Cloud woke and went downstairs to eat breakfast. He was sleepy. Cloud mindlessly shoveled cereal into his mouth, and when he heard his doorbell ring, he nearly spit it all out onto the table.

_Someone's here already?_

The time to show up was five. It was about eight in the morning. Cloud hurried to the door; whoever it was was repeatedly jabbing the button like a turd. Gaia, he hated it when people did that!

He opened it. He saw a flash of purple before he was being embraced. He was kissed once on the lips and again on each cheek, before he was pushed away. They briskly walked into the house and exclaimed, "How on Gaia did you manage to get your hands on _this_, Cloud?"

"Rufus," Cloud said stupidly. His cousin turned. He was wearing a pimp suit—Cloud almost didn't dare believe his eyes. It was made out of that fuzzy-looking velvety fabric. He had a big corny top hat, a giant Gil sign necklace (were those real diamonds?) and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses. He had a cane in his right hand, but it wasn't the old person kind—no, it was the rich, spoiled brat kind with a gigantic emerald in the top.

"Do you like it?" Rufus asked, posing a little.

Cloud smiled faintly. "It fits you perfectly." He was still in his pajamas and coughed self-consciously. He grinned and led Rufus to the kitchen, saying, "I didn't know you were actually going to come."

"I'm too good to answer invitations," Rufus said seriously, nosily poking his head into each room they passed. "I just show up."

"Yeah, like nine hours before anything starts."

"I'm fashionably early."

"I think you just forgot what time you were supposed to be here."

Rufus didn't answer. Cloud smiled.

The Invisibles were in a state of shock. _Rufus Shin-Ra _had just waltzed inside their crazy blond's house, _kissed him _and now was eating breakfast with him. Rufus was the second most powerful and wealthy man on the planet; Cloud was a marshmallow boy who slept with a stuffed chocobo. How...?

"They're cousins," Sephiroth said, finally getting it. He and Rufus were distantly related, and if Cloud was related to Hojo it meant he was related to _Sephiroth _and it made sense that those two were closely related; they looked quite alike, even if they acted totally different. Everyone seemed to be connected somehow, and it was irritating.

"Damn. Cloud knows some people in high places, huh."

"I'm actually surprised I haven't met Cloud before," Sephiroth mused. "I would have remembered him if I had." That would have saved everyone a whole lot of grief, if they had known him from before Hojo had kidnapped them.

Rufus listened attentively as Cloud filled him in on everything. The older blond not-so-subtly made Cloud go outside and help retrieve his bags as they talked. Cloud said Hojo's lawyer had given him the house, and he had been here ever since. He left out anything about ghosts. Rufus nodded when he was done and said, "I'm glad you don't live in that shitty apartment anymore. The color scheme here isn't to my tastes at all, but this mansion is pretty okay, as far as mansions go."

"...Thanks," Cloud said, rolling his eyes.

He left Rufus to no doubt sniff around as he darted upstairs to put on his costume once all of Rufus' crap was inside. He had gone for cute at first, but then decided to go for something a little tougher. Now he was _supposed _to be some sort of sexy biker dude, but he just felt like a leather-wearing crackhead. Aerith had suggested he have a sign on his back that said "Fenrir's Bitch," but he had politely turned her down. That was a little bit creepy.

He tugged on his rarely-worn motorcycling jacket, jingling and clanking slightly as he did so. Leather pants were not his thing, and he already didn't like all the chains and belts he had hooked onto them.

_How does Squall do it?_

Cloud raked gel through his hair to make his spikes look even straighter and more awesome and deadly than usual, then went back downstairs to Rufus. He was inspecting the candy bowl set on top of a dresser in the parlor that made a screaming sound whenever anyone took a piece out.

"Pfft," Rufus enunciated clearly when he saw his cousin. Cloud flipped him off and returned to the kitchen, heading to the oven and starting to prepare. Surprisingly, Rufus helped him. They chatted and sort-of flirted as they worked.

Cloud's relationship with Rufus was weird, sort of sexual but really asexual at the same time. He still acutely remembered their first little escapade in the bathroom of that SOLDIER's apartment. They bestowed a peck or two every now and again and Rufus really liked to grab his butt (and vice versa, Cloud would admit) but that was the extent of their... strange friendship. And Cloud hardly ever saw Rufus anyway, so it was alright. Right? It wasn't as bad as it sounded—it was...Planet, they were weird.

Cloud kept piling food on the table in the middle of the foyer in between the two staircases. Rufus got cups out of their plastic wrapper and got out the silverware, things like that. Sephiroth was trying to figure out a way to eat a piece of candy without the bowl screaming and giving him away.

"So, how many are coming?"

"I can't really guess," Cloud said dryly, "since there's people like you who don't tell me they're coming and show up anyway."

"Shut up."

Chuckling, Cloud said, "Uh, maybe ten people? I dunno. Oh—my friend Tifa said she'd be over pretty early."

"Hmm," Rufus grunted, setting paper plates on the table. They worked for perhaps another half-hour before someone knocked. Cloud hurried to the door and greeted Tifa. She was a butterfly, in a black dress with big shimmery wings tied to her back. It was... strangely feminine for tough Tifa, and he raised an eyebrow.

Tifa grinned. "What, I can't wear a dress around you?"

Cloud looked her up and down. "Nah—you can pull it off. It's fine." He scrunched his face up in thought. "You have really great legs, Tifa—you could get away with a shorter dress next time. Hmm... and think about getting a better pair of heels. Those don't go well with your dress."

"...Uh," Tifa said, following him inside. Was she supposed to feel praised or insulted? "...Alright."

They both marveled at how great—and maybe a little bit cheesy—the mansion looked. Cloud had just pointed out the fake rats on the couch cushions when Rufus poked his head out of the kitchen. "Is this stuff supposed to be burning? You might want to get in here...quickly."

Cloud cursed and darted to the kitchen. Rufus noticed Tifa and came out to say hello. Cloud removed a giant pan of baked ziti from the oven, frowning when it appeared to be perfectly fine. Rufus was such a picky eater. He set it on the stove top and returned to his friends; Tifa was staring at Rufus as he blabbered about something, absolutely star-struck. It was funny.

The three of them continued to get ready. Tifa took over in the kitchen, Cloud tried to fix the prongs of the giant stereo he had ruined a while ago, and Rufus texted people.

More people showed up around four-thirty. Barrett had driven Aerith, Yuffie, his adopted daughter Marlene and Denzel up from Midgar. Aerith was an alien, and Cloud cracked up as soon as he saw her. Her face was painted green and she had two cute antennae on her head. Her shirt and shorts were green too. Barrett was a fireman, Marlene was a fairy, and Denzel seemed to be a wizard. Yuffie was some sort of ninja princess thing. Cloud owed his life to her, literally—she was a leader of a gang back in Midgar and had gotten him out of an extremely sticky situation once. ...Seriously.

Cloud stooped a little and gave Denzel a hug. Aerith had told him that the kid had missed him. Marlene immediately made friends with Tifa, and Barrett glared daggers at Rufus. It was no secret that Barrett despised Shin-Ra. Cloud nervously wondered if there would be a problem, but Rufus seemed just fine ignoring the man, so it seemed everything would be fine. Just in case, he shot a warning glance at Barrett.

"...You really live _here_, Cloud?" Denzel sounded doubtful. Cloud grinned and nodded. Yuffie looked just as disbelieving.

"I told you it was nice," Aerith said, smiling.

Two more people suddenly walked through the door, and Sephiroth nearly had a stroke.

"Lazard!" Cloud said gleefully. "Holy sh—crap, you came!"

Rufus' head snapped around so fast it was a miracle he didn't break his neck. Those two had always disliked each other, and just recently they had found out that they were half-brothers. Cloud liked him though. He had met the Director of SOLDIER for the first time probably about a year ago when he had been visiting Rufus at the Shin-Ra building. With Lazard was Reeve Tuesti, who Cloud had only met, like, once. Why was he here?

"Oh my fucking..." Zack trailed off. How the hell was Cloud so well-known? The Director and the Head of Urban Development? All four ached to go to Lazard and tell him that they were okay and alive, but... they couldn't. Lazard wouldn't believe them; he'd think he was going crazy.

"...He's a vampire," Zack said, flabbergasted. He watched Lazard shake Cloud's hand with his mouth open.

Genesis had his hands over his eyes. "I can't _believe _Tuesti." Reeve was in a giant moogle costume, and he kept giving the evil eye to anyone who stared at it for too long.

Next to show was Terra, who was a clown. Aerith had managed to get the giant stereo working, and now the whole mansion was filled with Halloween music. Every time there was a loud wail or scream from the speakers Marlene would scream too, to Barrett's displeasure. He told Cloud to turn the stereo off but he was ignored. Parties without music were boring and lame.

Olga and Helga came as witches. They nearly fainted right at Rufus' feet, and then once they found out who Lazard was, tried to follow him around. Cloud pointed everyone towards the food and hovered near the door, waiting for more arrivals.

Squall and Firion came next. This was a surprise, as Squall hadn't answered his invitation. Firion had, though, and Cloud trotted outside a little to give him a brotherly hug. Firion owned a weapon shop in Midgar down the street from his old apartment. His stuff was so good, SOLDIER went to him sometimes if they wanted custom-made weapons. Squall was a SOLDIER Second who was friends with Reno. After he had broken up (quite spectacularly, too) with Reno, he thought that he wouldn't be able to talk to Squall anymore, but luckily he still did.

The typical pre-party mingling continued. Aerith told him Marlene was upstairs exploring, and he nodded. When he had invited everyone he had asked for them to bring something to eat, and Tifa was taking everything and putting it on the main table.

Cid was last to arrive, cursing and spitting about traffic or something. He grinned at Cloud and tried to give him a high-five, but Cloud was staring at his hand.

He had a bag of jolly ranchers.

Cloud ripped it out of the man's hand and threw the bag as hard as he could into the woods with a yell.

"...What the fuck," Cid said flatly, turning and going inside. He didn't even ask.

With everyone (hopefully) present, Cloud shut the door and surveyed everything. Rufus was half-drunk already, Lazard was glaring at him, Tifa was avoiding Aerith, Firion was explaining lances to an entirely too-interested Denzel, and Marlene was stuffing her face with candy while complaining of a stomachache.

Someone switched the Halloween music with the radio, and the party picked up. Helga, Olga and Yuffie immediately started dancing. Cloud scurried to the food table, absolutely starving.

"Hey, Cloud," a voice said to his left, just as he shoved a forkful of ziti into his mouth. Cloud chewed hastily, swallowed and turned. Firion smiled at him, dressed up as Prince. He had light blue puffy pants, a frilly, royal-looking shirt and a loose cap thing made out of a shiny fabric on his head. It had a feather sticking out of it. Cloud immediately laughed at him.

"It's been a while," Firion said casually, popping a chunk of a chocolate bar into his mouth.

Cloud agreed. "How's the shop?"

"Business is good," the "Prince" said. "There've been more monster sightings lately, so more common people are buying weapons to protect themselves."

Cloud remembered the monster in his pool. Scary stuff. He eyed the costume and laughed again. "Sorry," he giggled, "I can't help it. A guy who makes swords to kill things for a living can't be a good Prince Charming."

Firion sighed. He stood a little straighter and plucked a rose from a front pocket on his shirt. He held it out, going into a little bow.

"For you," he said, voice like silk.

Cloud blinked. Twice.

"It's the wild rose," Firion said, taking Cloud's hand and gently making him hold the bottom tip where there weren't any thorns. He stepped closer and tucked some hair behind Cloud's ear. He stared right into his eyes as he said, "It's beautiful, isn't it? But..." he pricked his thumb on a thorn, letting a drop of blood appear. "They've got thorns." He slowly licked the blood away. "But having something that is truly beautiful is worth any pain or hardships, is it not?"

Cloud was completely silent. Firion stayed still, looking into his face with his hand over Cloud's until Cloud gasped, "Holy crap!"

Firion cracked up. He doubled over and laughed until he was on the ground on his knees, nearly crying. Cloud joined him, sitting on the ground and chuckling until he was red in the face.

"...Woooww," Genesis moaned, slapping a hand over his cheek. He shook his head at the two of them.

"I make a great Prince Charming," Firion said proudly.

"You really do," Cloud confessed, smiling. Across the room Tifa frowned at them. That had been kinda weird...

Half an hour later, everyone was going crazy. The music was turned up so loud you could practically hear your teeth vibrate. Everyone was dancing, yelling, screaming or doing something stupid. Cloud had his arms around Rufus's neck and was thrashing around wildly. It wasn't quite like dancing—more like an intense mix of play-fighting and humping.

"I'm convinced Cloud's gay," Genesis declared as he watched Rufus accidentally fling Cloud into a wall. Cloud laughed and Rufus fell on top of him. They both lay there, drunkenly wiggling for a minute.

Sephiroth's lips twitched. "Does it matter?"

"No, but I'm not putting up with some gross _boyfriend _in our house someday. I won't tolerate a woman, either! Cloud is bad enough as it is."

Once the alcohol was brought out (once Marlene had fallen asleep), things got crazy. Aerith relentlessly teased Squall (who was dressed as a cop) and Barrett. Reeve (and Cloud still didn't know why he was here) was taking apart an electronic spider thing in the corner and holding all the different parts up to the light. ...Weirdo.

Denzel tried to sneak a beer, but as soon as he took a sip, Tifa saw and yelled at him.

"You're too young!" she scolded, taking it. Denzel grimaced.

"I can handle it," he challenged.

"Alcohol can really mess you up," she said sternly, hands on hips. "Especially if you start drinking early."

Denzel rolled his eyes. That was a bad move. Tifa immediately got huffy and started the "overbearing mother" routine, making him get away from the cooler and go hang out with Firion and Aerith. He grumbled but listened to her.

Cloud smiled at that. He was still starving and trotted to the food. He watched as Squall and Terra quietly argued over something. He plunged his hand into a bag and shoved a few of whatever it was into his mouth.

Before he could quite get the stuff up to his lips, however, a hand clamped over his mouth and he felt a sharp pain on his wrist. He dropped everything he was holding. He was suddenly released, and the bag clearly floated up a few feet, rolled itself up and was tossed to the ground. It slid across the floor about thirty feet.

Startled, Cloud stepped back. No one else noticed anything. Cloud blinked down at what was now on the floor. _Peanut butter filled pretzels._

A wave of nausea washed over him. He had almost eaten that.

...His ghosts were back. They had saved him?

Angeal wheezed, hands on his knees. He had seen Cloud unknowingly grab what could kill him from the next room over, and had sprinted so fast he nearly flew over to him and had knocked it right out of his hand. That had been too close.

The ghosts were still here! Hadn't he told them to get lost? The nerve! But...

They had saved his life.

...What did he do now? He still hated them, yes, but... he felt some piece of hatred towards them crumble away to nothing inside. Oh, yes. He still wanted to kill them. Just... not as much, maybe. Maybe.

Not hungry anymore, Cloud grabbed a beer and left the table. He'd spend more thought on the matter later. Right now, everyone was gathering together to do something fun, and he didn't want to miss it.

"We're playing spin the bottle, Cloud," Yuffie hiccuped at him. Mostly everyone was sitting in a circle on the carpet of a living room. Barrett was sitting on a couch a few feet away, clearly not intending on playing. Terra was passed out on the couch, cuddling a sleepy Denzel. Reeve was—holy shit, he was taking apart the television now.

"What the hell are you doing?" Cloud said, probably a bit too loudly. Everyone by this point was drunk or somewhat so.

Reeve glanced up at him but said nothing.

"Who has a bottle?" Yuffie asked. Everyone checked their pockets, like one would just be sitting there. Rufus eventually noticed the one in his hand and volunteered it, but only after draining it first.

"...What are we?" Squall said slowly, blinking a bit too often. "Fourteen? Spin the bottle..."

"Quiet, SOLDIER," Lazard said pleasantly. He had Olga's arm around his waist and Helga was leaning against his shoulder. He looked perfectly happy. Angeal was horrified, seeing his Director like that.

Someone spun the bottle, and the game started. Right away Tifa had to kiss Cid. She seemed to realize that the boys outnumbered girls and shrugged, figuring she'd be doing a lot of kissing. Her eyes went wide when Firion had to kiss Lazard.

Lazard winced but let Firion, who by now was missing his fancy hat and slurred every word, plant a sloppy smooch on the corner of his mouth. Yuffie cheered and egged them on but that was all they did.

Suddenly it was Cloud's turn. He gulped and spun, hoping it landed on someone halfway decent. ...Tifa.

Aerith suddenly started giggling. Cloud glared at her, then crawled across the circle. Tifa looked shocked, and Cloud smiled before lightly pecking her. He then retreated, scooting back to his spot. Tifa was blushing.

_Not good, not good... dammit._

Aerith kissed Squall, Yuffie had to kiss Helga (that had been interesting, to say the least) and then Lazard spun... and got Rufus.

"Fuck," they said at the same time.

The three Nibelheim-born girls stared with wide eyes as Lazard unhappily kissed his half-brother. Rufus made a gagging sound and wobbled drunkenly. Lazard drew back, wiped his mouth and sat down.

Sephiroth and Angeal were almost in stitches. This was too funny.

"They're all crazy," Angeal sighed, smiling.

Squall spun slowly, trying to not go fast and screw up and look like a drunk like everyone else. It spun around four times before stopping on Cloud's foot. "Ooooh," Yuffie giggled.

Squall sighed. Cloud leant back on his hands and waited, chuckling. Tifa looked at Cloud closely, probably expecting him to refuse or be grossed out.

_Sorry, Tifa._

Squall stood, walked the seven feet over to Cloud and crouched again. Cloud snickered in the brunet's face, laughing almost uncontrollably when a hand threaded into the hair on the back of his head. Squall silenced Cloud's giggling with and uncoordinated, messy kiss that nearly wasn't placed on his mouth at all. It was easy to miss when you were drunk. But they made it work, lips melding together and staying put for a few seconds.

Yuffie started cheering, and both men started laughing for no reason. Squall craned Cloud's head back and kissed him with more vigor. Cid pushed the SOLDIER's back and Squall awkwardly fell forward. Yuffie continued her unintelligible yelling, and Aerith clapped her hands.

Tifa watched Cloud try to stick his tongue in Squall's mouth. He ended up licking the other man's lips twice before he finally managed, and once he did, both started laughing so hard Rufus said he feared one of them would soon wet themselves.

After another minute or two they gave up, realizing that they were too drunk to do much of anything. The game continued, but Tifa sat, still shocked.

Why hadn't she seen it earlier? Cloud was... gay? Or... bisexual, maybe? She sat and watched him. Now that she had figured it out, it was painfully obvious. No straight man, even a drunk one, would have made out like that with another guy.

What hurt the most, Tifa realized, was that Cloud didn't tell her. She couldn't really expect him to tell her something like that; they still didn't know each other all that well yet. But still, all the same...

Tifa ducked her head and spun.

Outside, Genesis and Zack eagerly watched them approach. There were about ten teenagers who had trekked up the mansion, probably to see who owned the mansion more than to trick-or-treat. A roll of toilet paper was clearly in one kid's hand.

They walked onto the porch, and one kid reached for the doorbell. Genesis dropped a fake cobweb on his head.

"Eww!" the kid exclaimed. He realized what it was and calmed down. The others laughed at him.

"Fuck, this is a fucking big house," one muttered. "Some Shin-Ra fucker probably lives here—look at that car! A fucking _limo_!" (the limo, of course, belonged to Rufus.)

Zack sighed. What was it with teenagers and saying "fuck" every five seconds? He grinned and blew right into his ear. He twitched,and Zack knocked his bag of candy to the ground. Genesis edged closer to one of the fake spiders Cloud had hung and prepared for battle.

Four minutes later, every one of them was running away screaming. The kid whose pants were around his ankles tripped. None of his friends stopped to save him.

Genesis harshly grabbed his foot, and he shrieked. He got away because the ex-Commander was laughing too hard to get a keep a good grip on him. Both men stuffed their pockets with the candy one of the teens had dropped.

"That was fun," Zack said simply.

"Indeed," answered Genesis. He grinned when one of the retreating figures shouted, "It's haunted!"

Laughing, Zack opened the door to come inside. Something shot between his legs and into the house. Something... furry. What the—

* * *

Cloud sat down from kissing Yuffie and stared at Cid when he blurted, "What the hell is _that_?"

He turned. A black and gray _thing_ was hurtling straight for him. It was maybe a foot tall, with short legs and—

It leaped on him, knocking him over. Cloud screamed, covering his head and curling into a ball. Everyone else was yelling and scrambling around.

"Get it off!" Cloud yelled. Whatever it was was on his side, and it wasn't leaving.

He heard hissing and spitting. Cloud clenched his eyes shut and tensed, but nothing tore into his face or mad him bleed. He blinked and turned his head. A raccoon was sitting on him. Its mouth and nose were stained purple.

_Oh my God._

It was the raccoon he had thought he had killed! Why was it here? Why wasn't it hurting him? ...And why was it hissing whenever anyone got too close?

His eyes met Firion's; the man had tried to scare it away but nearly had his foot taken off. Lazard and Squall tried to get it off, but the thing screamed at them. It was the same horrible scream it once gave Cloud. Everyone jumped, and Cloud very nearly started crying.

The raccoon turned its head to look at him. Cloud stared back, too afraid to breathe. It gently lowered its head and nuzzled his throat. He felt a rough tongue slide against his adam's apple.

Cloud lost it. He yelled and thrashed, knocking the raccoon to the ground. Not once did it hurt him, though. It darted up a staircase and disappeared onto the second floor.

The house was silent at first, but then everyone started laughing. That _thing _had just molested Cloud. A search party ventured upstairs, but they found nothing. Assuming that the thing had left somehow, they let the matter drop and enjoyed themselves.

Not too long after that incident, the party started winding down. Everyone stayed up into the early morning talking and drinking (and in Cid and Squall's case, getting into a fight that broke a couch). But eventually people started falling asleep, so the party disintegrated.

Cloud looked around before going to his bedroom. Everyone was asleep on couches or upstairs by this point. He swallowed. He hadn't forgotten what had happened earlier.

The ghosts had been there. Now, the mansion was devoid of all the energy of earlier. There was just... nothing, like it had been for the past few weeks. He had been excited there for a minute, thinking he'd be able to yell and scream and run for his life and have some _fun _again. ...Guess not.

Cloud sighed and went upstairs. Cid was in his bed, and, oddly enough, Firion was sprawled sideways across the bottom half of it. He shoved Cid over and kicked Firion a little, then crawled in and closed his eyes.

* * *

...This was really, really boring.

Reno was a city boy. Nibelheim was, like, as far away from the city you could get. It was sleepy, not much fun, and the food sucked. So did the inn.

He had been staking out the mansion for about a week or so. It had been a very, very bad week. What made it worse was that Cloud was throwing a party, and he was stuck in town peering at the mansion through his binoculars. He could only make out whether the lights were on or not, not much.

_Rufus _was at the party, for crying out loud! So were Deusericus and even Tuesti. Cloud had become quite the social butterfly.

Cloud...

He hadn't seen him in a while. Not since... Reno leant his head against the glass of his window. He knew he had fucked up, but back then he never would have thought Cloud would _break up with him _over it!

That wasn't right. He had been a wreck ever since the guy had left him—it was obvious that he was... that he liked him still and wanted him back. That damned Yuffie... he had everything under control. _Really_. She had made the situation get completely out of control.

...Dammit.

Reno looked up at the mansion on the side of the mountain and sighed, lighting a cigarette.

He wanted to go to a party. Going to Cloud's would be even better.


	16. Flirting with Danger

**Tobi: **** Thanks KitaraStrife (1200!) and YourWorstDaydream (1150!). I love all of you. :'D I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. The first section broke my brain for about a week. ;D** ** and DUNDUNDUN... the plot thickens (again)!**

**CM: Hey all! Hope all our American friends had a good turky-giving. ^_^ Ok so. The next chapter will be dedicated to who ever can guess my favorite band. There is one clue in this chap. A very small clue. And if you already know cuz either me or Tobi have told you than you cant guess. :P (and _no_, it's _not_ The Weather Girls. x.x )  
**

* * *

The family reunions held every year were a complete waste of time. Barnaby Hojo could think of at least ten places he'd rather be than sitting in the latest extravagant location chosen by President Shin-Ra, and he could think of twice as many things he'd rather be doing.

The location itself wasn't too bad, actually, Hojo mused. It was a leafy, pleasant, flowery area beside a lake; some of the younger children were swimming, as it was warm out, but it wasn't hot enough to be uncomfortable. Everyone else seemed to be having a grand time but Hojo, who sat by himself on a scratchy picnic table on the edge of everything, was not. That wasn't a surprise, though.

He had been forced to attend this stupid event by the President himself, who said that he would cut his funding if he refused to show. What a horrid man. If it was any consolation, Hojo knew that he'd get revenge soon enough (he always did).

This was a complete waste of his time. Sephiroth was hiding somewhere, not wanting to be seen with his father. There wasn't anything to do—because there was no way he was getting involved with the sack races happening across the field. Instead he traced the words crudely cut into the top of the picnic table with his finger. "Jim + Liv 4ever."

_'Jim' probably raped 'Liv' and left her body hanging in a gutter. Such a sad world we live in._

Movement caught his eye, and he turned his head. A little boy was standing about five feet away, having somehow gotten all the way over to him. He was shirtless; his shirt instead was bunched up in his hand. His hair was slightly damp, and Hojo concluded he had been one of the ones swimming.

"Hi," he said simply.

Hojo frowned. He meant to stick his hands in his pockets but missed. A long light brown jacket had replaced the lab coat for today, for the occasion. "...Hello," he answered, confused.

The boy stepped forward and sat on the bench beside him. He peered up at the much older man with shockingly blue eyes and asked, "What're you?"

A short, awkward conversation revealed that the boy wanted to know how they were related. Hojo was surprised to find that he was his Great-Uncle; that would mean that he and Sephiroth were _very '_closely related.' Interesting.

"I'm Cloud." Cloud stuck out a hand. Hojo found himself shaking it before he really knew what he was doing. This boy was probably crawling with germs—he wasn't sanitized and was probably giving him a disease—

Cloud hopped up onto the bench and wiggled over until he sat directly beside Hojo. He smiled and asked, after looking him up and down, "What's your work? I was trying to guess but I can't get it."

When Hojo just stared at him, Cloud offered, "I wanna be a firefighter when I'm older. Firefighters are cool."

He wanted to be informed of his occupation, then. "...I am a scientist," Hojo said finally. This kid was talking to him; it was odd. Everyone in the family loathed him.

Cloud's eyes went huge and he cried, "Seriously?" He looked at Hojo like he was one of the firefighters he so admired. "Wow. That means—that means you're really smart, yeah?"

Hojo gave a thin smile. "I am rather proud of my intellect."

"Do you look at stuff under a magnifying glass? And do you use those test tube things? I got a che—chem—chemistry set for my last birthday and it came with all these rocks and my own test tubes and— "

When the boy's babbling died down, Hojo said, "I work with people. I study them, figure out how to improve them—how to make them stronger, faster and smarter. I also specialize in..." he thought about how to phrase this next bit for a second and decided on, "animal experimentation."

Cloud's mouth hung open. "That is so _cool_!"

_Cool? _Hojo knew that the little boy didn't understand, didn't know what he _actually _did, but something about getting this little bit of approval and being looked up to, rather than being hissed and spat at by worthless, nameless individuals, made him feel kind of... good. It was a curious feeling. Addicting.

"Have you seen a _brain_?"

Hojo found himself smiling. "I have."

"And—And someone's _guts_, even?"

"I've seen everything inside a person. Guts, Stomach, lungs—even hearts." He pushed his glasses higher up on his nose and nodded once. Cloud's adoring look made him feel sort of... proud. Smug, maybe.

_Nonsense!_

"That's awesome," Cloud breathed, scooting off the bench. He shivered and proceeded to tug on his shirt. He said something, but it was too muffled to understand. He moved quickly and ended up trying to fit his head through the hole for his arm, not realizing it.

Hojo suddenly found himself getting up and helping the boy with it. Cloud was covered in goosebumps—he could see them as well as feel them.

"So," Cloud said brightly once it was on correctly. "Have you ever touched a dead guy?"

They talked for about half an hour. The open admiration in Cloud's eyes floored Hojo. He was a bright child, for the most part, and his face was filled with such _wonder _at each story he was told. They were gruesome enough to make an older man cringe, but Cloud didn't understand what things like an 'incision' were and remained unaware of what he was really hearing.

He was a pretty little thing, Hojo realized. When he aged a little he'd be a sight to behold. If he hadn't been so against Sephiroth having friends and being exposed to unnecessary human contact, he would have suggested they meet.

Their time was cut short, however, when someone noticed that an innocent boy was with _Hojo_, the man everyone loved to hate in the family. They ran over and pulled Cloud away.

Cloud looked over his shoulder as he left, flashing Hojo a brilliant smile and giving a small wave.

Hojo waved back. He watched Cloud go and crossed his legs, leaning back against the table. He was an interesting boy—he'd keep tabs on him.

He may have just found a relative that he actually liked.

* * *

In his time at the mansion, Cloud had been woken up a variety of ways. He had opened his eyes to see floating clothes, he had been smothered nearly to death to start off one morning, and he had started his day waking up in too many weird places with a headache to count.

Today, there was something suckling on his earlobe. Nothing like _that_ had ever happened before. Even though he had a hangover the size of the Plate, his eyes snapped open.

There was something furry curled up on his chest and neck. Something _alive_. Something... sucking on his ear!

Cloud yelled and flailed, trying to push it away. The sheets on the bed hated his guts, it seemed, because he got tangled in them and fell off the bed right onto a snoring person he realized was Firion.

The furry thing zoomed out of the room. Cloud clutched his wet ear and wailed, waking Firion and Cid, who had fallen off the other end of the huge bed during the middle of the night.

"What's all this goddamned _noise _for, asshole!" Cid barked, wincing at his own outburst. Firion groaned blearily beneath Cloud and tried to shove him off. Cloud didn't budge, because about two feet from Firion's head, almost underneath the bed, was a disgusting mess of pee and poop. ..._Raccoon _pee and poop.

_It was marking its territory!_

Cloud clutched Firion tightly so he wouldn't be pushed off and made a series of unintelligible panicked noises. Firion's eyes opened fully and he noticed the pile of stinking waste.

"Who did _that_?" Firion laughed, thinking one of the party-goers had been exceptionally drunk and had done it.

"It's that raccoon!" Cloud grunted, getting to his feet. He wobbled dangerously but pressed on, clutching his head. He stumbled into the hallway, catching a black and white blur darting into a room at the end of the hall.

"Get up!" he roared. "Everyone! It's back!"

Cloud started chasing it, banging on doors and waking the others in the house. It was a terrible start to the day. No one but Cloud quite knew what was going on, and the manor was complete, utter chaos.

"Get it!" Cloud shouted, running downstairs, Cid and Barrett on his heels. He yelled at the people sleeping on the couches in the parlor and living room, recruited the two individuals making coffee in the kitchen and pointed at a couch, which a raccoon had just darted under.

The chase began. The cursing, hung-over party-goers herded the raccoon around the mansion, repeatedly backing it into a corner before it ran through someone's legs and the whole thing started again. It seemed to really like Cloud; every time the blond got near the raccoon would rush at him, but Cloud would flinch or do something that seemed to hurt the animal's feelings and it would sprint away.

* * *

...What the hell was going _on _up there?

These were weird times, he decided. For a while the house had been almost silent, and now he could year yelling and pounding footsteps. It was almost giving him a headache. He listened to the new voices for a moment, curiously tilting his head a little in his prison. Interesting... and, to his surprise, one of them seemed to have a voice that lingered in his ears; it was... actually incredibly irritating. They kept cursing. He hated it when people used excessive language like that.

He snorted and tuned out the noise. Whatever.

Back to sleep.

* * *

About forty minutes into the whole fiasco, everyone was beat or just didn't care anymore. Aerith and Terra were watching television downstairs, as they refused to hunt something so cute, they said.

Cloud had his hands on his knees, bent over the middle of the hallway as he wheezed. Cid came up from behind and lightly punched him in the small of the back.

"I'm fuckin' done with this shit," he grumbled.

Cloud was about to convince him to keep helping, but Marlene's shrill voice cut through the air. "That bandit!" she cried from somewhere on the second floor, "That bandit stole my hair ribbon!"

They ran to her, frantically asking where the animal ran off to. Marlene shrugged and said lightly, "I dunno where Bandit went."

"Marlene," Cloud groaned, "Don't _name_ the thing."

The girl frowned sternly. "Don't call Bandit a 'thing,' Cloud. That's not nice."

After Cloud finished begging for forgiveness, he ended the chase. It just wasn't going anywhere. So, he had a raccoon in his house. Big deal. He could cope—having murderous ghosts at one point seemed to be a bit worse, in his book.

"Screw it," Cloud grunted, trekking downstairs to join everyone else in the kitchen. They all asked if he had found Bandit, and he glared darkly at them. "No," he said darkly. "And maybe I would have, if you had helped."

Squall rolled his eyes, and Barrett elbowed him in the collarbone (which actually had reallyreally_hurt_, Cloud chanted in his mind, wincing).

Once everyone was seated at the dining table eating pancakes that Aerith and, surprisingly, Firion had made, Cloud noticed that Tifa was gone. She had split in the earlier confusion.

_Oh, dammit._

He felt terrible. If he had been less drunk yesterday he never would have kissed Squall like that in front of her. She was probably really angry and hurt, if she had left...

He had fucked up. And he had to fix it. Somehow.

Cloud looked around at his friends, still in costume and squinting in the light. He'd go to Tifa later; she had to cool off for a while first. He dug into his breakfast and put Tifa out of his mind.

The first to leave were Aerith, Barrett, Yuffie, Marlene and Denzel. He hugged all of them goodbye, nodded when Marlene said to keep her posted about Bandit and laughed when Yuffie quietly said to call her if he needed any more mob members—but now the Nibelheim kind—taken out. It was painful and terrifying to remember, but now that some time had passed, it was funny a little as well.

"Take care of yourself, Cloud," Yuffie whispered, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Cloud nodded wordlessly, squeezing Yuffie—the one who made sure that he was still here breathing—to him and didn't let go for a minute.

_Reno..._

"I remember her," Angeal said suddenly. "She foiled one of the missions I went on a few years back." No one knew what Cloud was doing knowing such a shady character. Genesis sniggered—Yuffie was probably laughing in her head at being so close to the Director of SOLDIER and a SOLDIER Second who had no clue who she was.

The remaining people cleaned up breakfast and all went out to get their change of clothes from their cars, or, in Rufus' case, went upstairs to dig through his massive bags to find a presentable outfit.

Cloud changed too, glad to be rid of those _stupid _leather pants. His room reeked; he eyed Bandit's mess and sighed, going to the bathroom to get the necessary materials to clean it up.

Squall and Firion left next, closely followed by Lazard and Reeve. Squall gave him a pat on the back and a small smile before he left—he knew about everything with Reno too, obviously. Cloud smiled sadly and bumped fists with him and Firion, and they left. He happily said goodbye to Lazard and awkwardly shook Reeve's hand. Reeve smiled and breezily walked outside. In fact, Cloud didn't think he'd heard Tuesti say anything.

"I've always known he was crazy," Genesis hissed quietly to Zack, who laughed.

The last one to leave was Rufus. He stayed for a while, actually; he didn't have to leave early because he just had to drive his limo into the next town and take a chopper back to Midgar. Lucky bastard.

They laid around and sleepily watched a movie, heads still hurting a bit. During this time Cloud was left alone with his thoughts... and this was not a good thing.

His mind kept returning to the incident from yesterday. All morning he hadn't been able to sense the ghosts at all; they were seriously gone again. Dammit. He should have been glad and happy about this... but for some reason, he wasn't. It was weird.

When the movie ended, Rufus got to his feet with a groan and sighed, "Well, I better get going, then. I have a hair appointment scheduled at three."

Cloud helped his cousin with his bags, loading them into the car and opening the driver's side door with a flourish like a real chauffeur would. Rufus smiled charmingly and reached out, hugging Cloud tightly. Cloud bent a little and rested his forehead against the blond's shoulder, squeezing him.

"...Take care of yourself," Rufus said after a moment.

"I will. You too."

Rufus made Cloud look at him and said seriously, "I've been keeping an eye on Reno for you. Right now he's on a mission somewhere in a town no one's heard of." He grinned. "I asked my Turk Commander about it yesterday."

The news came as a huge relief. Some small part of him had been worried that Reno would come, that he'd try to find him. It was just... he was still angry, hurt, even, and the last thing he wanted to do was see the redhead or even think about him.

"Thanks," he said softly, holding Rufus for another few seconds before lightly shoving him away. The Vice-President nodded wordlessly, then got in the expensive vehicle and drove off. Cloud watched him go, then shook his head slightly and went back inside. When he pulled the door shut behind him and locked it, it felt like he was shutting himself inside a jail cell.

All the people were gone. It was just him in this huge mansion. It seemed... it seemed even more silently oppressive than it had been before, maybe just out of spite. He could hear it now: _You tried to make me lively, Cloud! You brought people here, and I didn't like that one bit! Time to suffer! Ha ha ha, like this! I bet you don't, little boy-_

He was a seriously crazy fuck. Cloud frowned and, not knowing what else to do with himself, collapsed onto a chair in the nearest room.

After a minute of blankly staring at the carpet, his thoughts—predictably—drifted back to the latest incident. He didn't mind, though, this time; this stuff had to be sorted out.

_So... one of them saved me._

Alright. As he said before, this didn't mean much. He just... maybe... maybe. Maybe?

Maybe he hated them a little less. Maybe—but of course, he wasn't _happy! _No way, just..

_I could try to be a little nicer, maybe, if I ever see them again._

Cloud groaned and flung himself sideways in the armchair. Everything was so damn complicated. After debating with himself for a while, Cloud came to a tentative conclusion. If he ever saw the ghosts again... he wouldn't attack. That is, as long as they didn't do something to make him angry. They had done something truly nice, though, and he was thankful that he wasn't dead. He'd let them stay in peace, as long as they didn't bother him and left him alone.

Deciding that had made him completely exhausted. It was a big step. Suddenly Cloud felt like sleeping more, but he forced himself to his feet. He didn't want to sleep.

In the end, Cloud decided to take his chances in the library again. Perhaps he'd find a book like _Mako _that would help him unravel this whole mystery. And if he couldn't find anything like that, he'd check again for any good reading material.

Once more he thought of Tifa as he walked towards the library. _Later, _he thought, _I'll go later._

The library was eerily still. Cloud frowned and looked around, then decided to climb the nearest ladder to see what was up there. He hauled himself up, then tensed. The last time he had been up one of these he had been tipped over and a book had fallen on his head.

Cloud waited, expecting—and almost _wishing for—_something to happen. Of course, nothing did.

Feeling almost disappointed, Cloud got off the ladder. He didn't really feel like reading books anymore. He halfheartedly glanced at a few titles, but they weren't anything good. More boring crap or weird books he didn't care about.

Disheartened, Cloud turned to leave the library and find something else to do somewhere else, but he stopped walking after only a few steps. A soft noise had echoed in the room.

Curiously, Cloud turned around and stepped deeper into the library. It had sounded like rustling paper; perhaps Bandit had gotten into a book on the ground or something. What he found in a back corner certainly wasn't Bandit; no, there was _nothing_. Sort of.

The seat cushion of an armchair up against a wall and beside a reading lamp had a dip in it. The red fabric was flat near the edges, then sank down a couple of inches towards the middle.

There had to be weight on it. Something... _invisible._

Right in front of him, a few feet above the cushion, was a floating book. A page turned, and Cloud knew where the noise had been coming from. His breathing hitched, he stopped breathing and he _stared_.

A soft intake of breath made Genesis look up. He jumped nearly a foot in the air when he saw Cloud not three feet away, watching the copy of LOVELESS in his hands with huge eyes. Had he really been so engrossed in the book he hadn't noticed Cloud creep up on him? The redhead swore.

_Dammit_.

Cloud watched the thick book tilt back a little. It seemed to be the sign that he had the ghost's attention; he did the same thing himself if someone bothered him while he read. He swallowed thickly.

It was back. At least one of the ghosts was here... but it was leaving him alone. And it was _reading—_something that made it seem ridiculously human in Cloud's eyes.

...Was he afraid? Not really. Cloud realized this, confused with himself when he learned he was more _excited _than afraid.

Cloud drew himself to his full height and shot the ghost in the chair a firm look. He wouldn't attack. If they weren't going to bother him, he wasn't going to bother them. And... even though he was still miffed, they had saved his life. The least he could do was not try to kill them on sight.

Genesis tensed in his chair. Cloud was staring for much too long—if he broke out the flyswatter or something there'd be some serious trouble. He prepared to dodge swinging plastic, but it turned out that he didn't need to. Cloud seemed to reach a decision and nodded once at him, then turned and stiffly walked out of the library.

_Woah, what?_

Cloud let out a huge breath as soon as he exited the room. His hands were shaking a little, but he also felt kind of... good. That had been kind of fun, flirting with danger and the unknown again.

After that, Cloud calmly went about his day. He was strangely comforted, almost, knowing that the ghosts (or at least one of them) were still around. That thought made Cloud pause.

He should have been angry. Or scared, at the very least. After thinking it over for a few minutes as he took down Halloween decorations, he realized that yes, he was angry still. Afraid too. But, both emotions weren't as strong as they had been. They had saved his life. And besides, he was never one to hold that much of a grudge (unless, of course, you were Reno). ...But, they had tried to kill him, too!

_My head hurts_.

Sick of arguing with himself, Cloud pushed all the thoughts of his haunters out of his mind. He needed something to do, other than going to Tifa's or thinking. (He also didn't feel like taking down any more fake cobwebs.)

He eventually decided to do some laundry. He grabbed Sebastian from his bedroom and brought the chocobo into the laundry room with him, along with an overflowing hamper. He propped Sebastian on top of the machine, then opened the hatch and put his clothes, the right amount of detergent and set the dials.

"I have," Zack said slowly, peeking in the doorway and watching Cloud work, "this crazy urge to push him in the dryer."

Sephiroth looked at him, a little alarmed, but relaxed when Zack laughed. "Chill, man," he said soothingly, patting Sephiroth on the arm, "This isn't, like, Hansel and Gretel. I won't do anything."

Cloud closed the lid and suddenly sang to Sebastian, "It's raining men! _Hallelujah!_" He picked up the toy and spun, gleefully singing more of the The Weather Girls song but then abruptly switched songs in the middle of a sentence.

"Every daaay," he cried, hugging Sebastian and kicking the washing machine when it made a weird noise, "and niiight, with yoouu...!"

Sephiroth covered his face and quickly walked away. Zack snorted and shot a last glance at Cloud before running to catch up with his older lover. "He's a cutie," Zack said, nodding to himself. "Crazy, though."

The General smiled faintly. "I suppose."

When all his clothes were in the dryer, Cloud brought Sebastian outside. It was getting chilly; he wore a light jacket. _Some mittens or something for Sebastian would be really cute,_ he thought, tucking the chocobo into his jacket and letting his head stick out so he wouldn't get cold.

He found a soccer ball in the shed. It was only a little flat—still perfectly useable. Cloud was horrible at soccer, but he dribbled it around a little on the lawn, feeling great. It was nice to get some exercise, and out here he could see the great view of the mountains. All at once, Cloud was overcome with awe, once more astounded that he lived in a _mansion_ in a beautiful place like _this_.

_Thank you Hojo, you creep._

One of the sides of the house had a section of wall that looked absolutely perfect. Cloud repeatedly kicked the ball at it, being careful not to hit anything.

Inside, Genesis peeked out a window and watched Cloud kick it. The black and white ball missed the glass he was peering out of by about a foot. The panicked look on Cloud's face was apparent even from the distance between them, and Genesis laughed.

"Watch this," Cloud told Sebastian. He placed the ball on the ground and took a few steps back. He raised one arm dramatically like he had seen real soccer players do, then sprang forward and kicked with all his might.

Cloud accidentally stepped on the soccer ball and was completely, utterly destroyed. He smacked his face on the ground and rolled, hearing his neck crack and hurting his ankle.

Genesis roared into laughter. When Cloud didn't get up for a minute or two he laughed harder, using his normal, loud voice for a change.

Cloud moaned miserably, crawling around until he was in a good position to stand up. He did so with a wince, checking to make sure Sebastian was okay. "Ow," he grunted, "I'm glad no one saw that."

He lined the ball up and tried again. This time his foot connected, and it went up... _really _up. The soccer ball crashed into a room on the third floor, the sound of breaking glass echoing in the mountain stillness.

Angeal, who was dozing in a guest room far away from the main part of the house, was woken up by a ball flying through—and breaking—the window directly next to the bed. He sprang up and nearly tripped over himself as his body automatically scrambled for his sword, which was currently locked up somewhere anyway and no use to him.

_Why does this always happen to me!_

A few shards of glass fell down to the flower bed next to the house. Cloud sighed; he had a feeling that _he _would be the one to replace the window this time, as well as one he had spotted on another side of the house. He didn't know how _that _had happened. Cloud pulled out his cell phone and glanced at its clock on the front screen. It was around two in the afternoon, and even though he really didn't want to admit it, Cloud knew it was time to go to Tifa's.

Sebastian was gently leant against a throw pillow on a couch his owner particularly liked. "Wish me luck, buddy," Cloud sighed. The blond grimaced and turned to leave, grabbing Fenrir's keys. He sadly turned around in the doorway and called softly, "Bye, Sebastian." Then he shut the door and mounted his bike.

The drive to Tifa's house was entirely too short. He didn't want to go—Tifa would be angry with him. Fighting with Tifa wasn't something he wanted to do. But he _did _have to talk to her—he felt guilty. He shouldn't have led her on when it was so obvious that she _liked _him, even though he didn't want her to get angry and stop being his friend.

He got off Fenrir and approached her front door cautiously. Four seconds passed until Cloud managed to knock, but he did it and then it was done, and Cloud waited on the welcome mat for Tifa. The brunette answered after a suspiciously long time. Her hair was up, and she wore a sweater with the sleeves rolled up. He must have interrupted her in the middle of something. She stared at Cloud for a second, then her eyes narrowed. That was only for a brief moment—her eyes then flashed with something and she looked down, giving off sad vibes and saying nothing.

"Tifa..." Cloud began. "I—you—I'm sorry, I-"

"I guess I can't really be angry," Tifa interrupted. Cloud went silent. She looked up and gave him a soft look. "I haven't known you for very long; you had no obligation to tell me something like that. But..." she sighed, "I still do wish you would have told me."

Cloud was silent for a moment, then said earnestly, "I'm sorry, Tifa. It was assholeish of me—but I didn't tell you 'cause I figured you'd be...grossed out." he fidgeted, feeling slightly filthy, and said quietly, "you're a country girl, you know? I know people out here aren't as open-minded as people in the cities. It's just—you're my...er, friend, and I didn't wanna scare you away."

"My cousin is gay," Tifa said, frowning. "I don't have any _problems_, with it, Cloud-"

"I-I didn't know that, okay?" Cloud argued, feeling foolish. They stared silently at each other for one long, awkward moment, and then Tifa giggled. Cloud scratched the back of his head and sighed loudly.

"It's really okay," Tifa said softly. "I'm fine. I overreacted earlier—sorry I left."

"No!" Cloud stressed, aware that they were both acting like idiots. "I should've told you earlier-"

Tifa silenced him with a look, and Cloud stood before her quietly, resisting the urge to wring his hands. Their conversation hadn't been that bad, all things considered, even though it had been terribly, terribly awkward.

Tifa invited him inside, and they both floundered for another few minutes before she said, sounding uncertain, "So... uh, have you ever had a... boyfriend before? Are you dating someone now?"

Cloud blushed brightly and started waving his arms around. "No, I'm not, not now!" He stilled suddenly, remembering. He ducked his head.

_...Reno..._

Cloud turned away from Tifa. "I... yeah," he answered, inspecting the printed wallpaper beside his head. Tifa's house was small compared to his mansion, but it was bigger than his apartment had been. "...I used to date this one guy."

Tifa's warm hand appeared on his shoulder. "Sorry," she said softly, "I didn't mean to bring up any painful memories or anything."

Cloud exhaled slowly. "No, it's alright..."

* * *

The stench of cigar and cigarette smoke was so bad in the small, cramped room, Reno could barely breathe. Luckily he was used to it so it wasn't really bothering him. The room was hot and stuffy, but he didn't dare fidget. Showing weakness would be the death of him in a place like this, Reno knew, even though he nearly drunk and swaying in his seat.

The four other men seated at the table with him studied their cards, careful to keep their poker faces on. Reno shot a quick glance at the other men in the room who were leaning against the walls with their arms crossed.

Reno didn't exactly remember how he had gotten to the slums and had gotten involved in a game of poker with men who he was pretty sure were gang members, but he was, and he decided to roll with it.

"So," he sighed, placing his chips in the center of the table, "Anyone wanna bet anything... good?"

_I could use some information, _he thought. _The brat'll probably wanna know about this... I gotta get outta here._

Reno took a deep swig out of the large, half-empty bottle in front of him, burped and eyed his companions.

No one answered, and the game continued.

Reno had always been good at poker. After his Turk training he had gotten even better—because now, keeping calm, being discrete and protecting secrets was his new area of expertise. But, after another hour or so he was completely drunk and was losing all his money.

He had managed to alert Rude and send him his location by turning on the device on the inside of his pants, stuck along the waistband. If he had been searched earlier they probably hadn't found it (because that was one _really _weird place to stick technology, he always said). Reno struggled to remember anything, but his brain was fuzzy and he couldn't. It didn't really matter, though; Rude was on his way, and he could afford to kick back and enjoy himself a little.

He and the man to his left ran out of money a short time later. One guy who must have been the leader looked at both of them, blew a ring of smoke into the air and said, "Do you have anything of value?"

Now _they listen to me._

The other losing man thought, glanced at his cards and said after a moment, "...I have a ring I'm willing to part with. Solid gold, twenty-four karat. Diamonds lining a stone of crystallized Mako. There's only seven made total."

The others seemed to consider this and eventually agreed. Everyone turned to look at Reno. The Turk eyed the gun sticking out of one man's pocket and thought. He didn't own any fancy shit like these guys. He had to bet something, though; he didn't exactly want to know what would happen if he didn't. What did he own that was special?

It hit him. "If you win," he slurred, "You can have my boyfriend. How's that?"

Silence. The other men in the room glanced at each other, disgust and confusion clearly on some faces, but the three at the table kept their gazes on him.

"His name's Cloud. Cute as... as a button, yo." He winked. "Prettiest blue eyes—blond, too. Gives fantastic head."

To Reno, who was now halfway through his second bottle, this seemed to be a wonderful idea. He had a great hand; the odds were seriously in his favor. He'd win this time, he'd get their money, and he wouldn't have to bet Cloud again.

He wanted to leave and hang out with Cloud at his apartment for a while. Maybe take a shower together or something. The guy had had a delivery earlier—in fact, falling asleep with an exhausted Cloud sounded almost preferable to doing anything, at the moment.

Eventually they agreed, sending quiet laughter his way. When it was time Reno showed his cards with a big grin on his face. _Straight Flush. Suck it, bastards. _He reached out to take the chips, but the man sitting next to him beat him to it.

Royal Flush. He had lost.

Reno choked and looked up; everyone was sneering at him.

"'Cloud,' was it?" the leader asked, smiling coldly. "That's a nice name."

Cloud now 'belonged' to these guys. He had just sold his boyfriend to some shady killer. _Fuck_. He instantly sobered and said shakily, sensing the danger in the situation, "Hey—I was just joking."

The man across from him held up a handgun and pointed it right at his face. He said coolly, "I don't think so, Turk." About six of the silent watchers leaning against the walls left through a small door after getting a nod from their leader. Reno had a bad feeling that he knew where they were going. Even if they didn't know Cloud... they could look him up somehow. These guys knew how to operate, as he damn well knew.

Just as Reno threw himself to the ground to avoid the bullets that the leader (who now had numerous pieces of booze-covered glass embedded in his face, courtesy of his bottle), Rude, Elena and five other Turks came crashing into the room. Finally.

Cloud sat quietly on Reno's couch, trying to stay awake. The redhead was due back soon, and he wanted to be able to greet him when he returned. He smiled—_Reno._

Who would have thought he'd end up falling for the asshole? After their first meeting he had shown up at his apartment (Cloud knew Reno must have looked him up, since he had tricked him before), saying he 'wanted to make sure he was okay.' Cloud had said that he was, and Reno had left. But then he showed up the next day, and then the day after that. Cloud laughed; he was dating such a crazy idiot. A loveable crazy idiot, though.

He heard quiet footsteps outside the apartment door, and he eagerly rose off the couch. Reno was home!

Halfway to the door, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and held it to his ear after seeing that Reno was calling. It was just like him, to call while only a few feet away.

"What do_ you _want?" Cloud asked snootily, pretending to be unhappy to see him. He undid the sliding chain above the doorknob.

"_Cloud_!" came Reno's voice. He was yelling, and he sounded panicked. "Baby, listen to me—don't open the door if anyone comes. You need to hide, alright? Rude and I are coming to get you-"

It was too late, though, because Cloud had already swung the door open.

He dropped the phone.

* * *

Tifa silently watched Cloud's eyes darken for a few seconds, like he was remembering something. Now she felt terrible—Cloud's last relationship must have been...bad.

"...Sorry," he finally murmured, shaking his head a little. "Bad memories, y'know?" Cloud smiled at Tifa, though it was weaker than his usual one. "I'm all good now."

Tifa smiled too. Her hand gently squeezed his, and for once, Cloud didn't feel awkward around her. Now things were more relaxed between them; it felt like she was his sister. Sort of.

They both sat on a worn couch in what seemed to be the living room. Tifa grinned and asked, "Well, are you trying to find a boyfriend now?"

Cloud spluttered, then started laughing. "_No_," he snickered, "No, not now. I'm good being single for now."

Tifa frowned briefly, then seemed to shake herself a little. Her smile returned, but it was less genuine than before. It was foolish of him to expect that she'd be perfectly fine with everything. Luckily, though, she seemed more or less okay. He couldn't ask for anything else.

They talked for a while. Both tried to completely eradicate any uncomfortableness from earlier. They didn't focus on the main topic of earlier; instead, Tifa filled him in on all her bar plans. Apparently she had been planing this for quite some time. Cloud was surprised by how much hard work went into something like starting your own bar, and he marveled at how hard Tifa worked. She was checking out the future site of the bar the day after next already.

"Would you like to come with me?" she offered nonchalantly.

"Sure!" Cloud said quickly. "Yeah. That'd be cool."

Tifa nodded, and they chatted for a few minutes more before Cloud managed to escape and get back on Fenrir. It felt good, getting that out of the way. And things turned out much better than he thought they would.

In a good mood, Cloud entered his home. It was... nice, almost, to be there. Warm. He smiled, knowing that the house wasn't empty—obnoxious supernatural company was better than no company at all, he had realized.

The Invisibles watched him come back (and they weren't exactly upset about that either). Genesis had told them of what had happened earlier; all of them had been shocked. It was progress though. Maybe they were finally on their way to getting Cloud's forgiveness.

Cloud and Sebastian settled on a couch to watch television, and they settled on various chairs or sat on the floor leaning against the couch only a few feet away from Cloud, in Zack's case.

* * *

It was nice to relax a bit for once.

Now that they were gone, Shin-Ra wasn't quite the same. The hallways—and especially the VR room—were quieter. He never heard any constant bickering in the elevators, and he wouldn't get a small, nicely-wrapped present on his desk during the holidays from the nicest of them anymore.

The new General was terrible. First Classes had been depressed ever since the incident. Tseng almost felt a little guilty, but he knew that what he had done was for the greater good of the company and the feeling faded away.

"Sir," he said politely when he passed Rufus in the hallway. The blond looked happy. He had gone missing a few days earlier and had returned with a hair cut, looking quite pleased with himself. Tseng almost shuddered, remembering the terrible uproar. Their Vice-President was a handful, that was for sure.

He continued to his office, placing a hand over his stomach. Lunch had been worse than usual; if he somehow got sick, the cafeteria staff had better watch out.

A minute or so after Tseng sat down in his office chair, he thought about Cloud. The man must have still been alive, as no raging invisible SOLDIERs had come for him yet. For that, he was thankful.

He didn't exactly have a plan as to what to do if they killed Cloud. He'd be next on their list. Sending Reno there was a precaution. If anything happened, he'd know early on and could act accordingly. Reno was a good Turk, even though he annoyed him most of the time. After he had 'returned' to Shin-Ra he had learned of some giant crisis where Reno had drunkenly sold his 'boyfriend' to leaders of two gangs who had been a permanent thorn in Shin-Ra's side. The poor guy had almost been killed, whoever he was.

Reno was an idiot sometimes. But, Tseng trusted him to carry out this mission well regardless.

The phone on his desk rang. Tseng frowned and held the receiver. "Tseng, Commander of the Turks."

"Tseng," came Scarlet's voice. "How're you?"

_Ugh._

"Fine, thank you," he responded politely. "And you?"

"Great. Now—I need to know you took everything."

Scarlet, Heidegger and Palmer also knew that he had been involved in the whole thing. It had been the four of them who decided, all those years ago, that the General, his two Commanders and Fair, already a huge force within the company, were becoming too powerful. Too many people looked up to them, took their word as truth. Tseng knew that if they had decided to leave the company or revolt—as he feared they eventually would—then a chunk of everyone else would go with them. That was dangerous.

So, they had talked to Hojo. They needed the four of them to disappear, and Hojo had been itching to get them into his labs for ages. That had worked out nicely.

"I have," he said tightly. He didn't like any of the others. Scarlet kept trying to threaten him, but he was in charge here—he wouldn't tolerate it.

"Are you sure? Strife can't find anything. You know what he'll do if he does."

"I am positive," he said coldly. "Now, I have some work to do. Good day." He hung up and put the phone on its charger with far more force than necessary.

Of course he had everything. Even though he had left in a hurry after Hojo's death, he had gotten all his papers and destroyed the computer. Even though he knew that, he decided to check.

He pulled all the papers out of a special drawer in his desk and spread them out on the top. Everything seemed to be in order; Scarlet was going on about nothing, as usual.

A jolt of cold shock went through him when he realized he realized one of Hojo's reports was missing. _Missing_. Each one detailed what was done to each of the four of them—if anyone got their hands on one, it would be the end. His _name _was mentioned in those things.

Tseng resisted the urge to panic. He had to get to the mansion and get it before Cloud saw it. But how would he do that?

He got it, quickly reaching for his phone. It seemed a call to Reno was in order.


	17. RACE

**Tobi: aldskjfGHFJDkldjgklfdhg I'M BACK YAY~ Hi everyone! It's good to be back. I took some time off writing, blah blah, insert reasons for absence here, and I am back now. This chapter all together is over 12,000 words, and it's jam-packed with stuff. I think you will like it. =) Thanks go to Notoyax17 (1250th reviewer) and Dark Spider (our 1300th reviewer)! Also, props go to Sorako, Silent curiousityx, Mikurai and Black Ice for guessing that the song Cloud was singing was by DBSK. But a HUUUUGE thanks goes to the ultra-amazing, fantabulous keyboard-bash-inducing Sue Dunham, for reading over this for us. Loooove. Alright, enjoy guys! I love you all, thanks for sticking with the fic. -hugs-**

**CM: Hi guys! I dont have much to say this time... just go read. Shoo! Enjoy it! Tobi and I worked really hard on this one.  
**

* * *

This morning Cloud came into consciousness gradually, easily, calmly; due to all the chaos recently he hadn't gotten much sleep, and now that he was able to relax some, he was milking it for all it was worth.

Eventually he found himself staring at the ceiling. He was on the couch downstairs in front of the television, right where he had been for a few hours the previous night. That was the beauty of waking up at your own leisure. It wasn't quick or jarring and immediate; you just sort of… found yourself awake. Things blurred. That was good. He didn't know how many more scary waking-up incidents he could take.

Sebastian was with him, safely tucked under his chin. A light—but warm—green blanket covered him and his chocobo. Cloud didn't remember getting it. He was glad he'd had the sense to grab one before he fell asleep.

For a while he lay there, not doing anything. He hugged Sebastian and wrapped the blanket around himself. He didn't want to move. He marveled at how pleasant the mansion was. He was still a little wary, sure—but certainly not as much as before.

Cloud admired everything about the mansion. There was the sunlight coming in the windows, the ticking of that grandfather clock, and the soft humming of the heat working, making warm air come through the vents.

Smiling, Cloud rolled over and placed Sebastian in between him and the back of the couch.

His mom had given him Sebs when he turned sixteen. He had been wrapped up, a small, dinky present next to a gleaming game system. He had told her that he would never even touch it—because teenagers _his_ age didn't play with _dolls_.

But then his mom had died, just before he went out to be a Cadet. He was all alone. His other presents seemed to disappear, and the game system broke.

Sebastian was still around, though, and he was actually adorable. And cuddly. And great at listening. He smiled, hugged Sebastian harder and snuggled down. There was no harm in going back to sleep, because he had all day.

Cloud was completely unaware of Angeal, who sat about two feet away from his head at the end of the couch. He had been asleep. (Last night Zack, Sephiroth and Genesis had tried to wake him up when it was time to go upstairs, but he had only grunted and made himself as comfortable as he could. They had shrugged and left, laying a blanket over the already-sleeping Cloud.)

The blond's movements had woken him a little bit, and he opened one bleary eye. Cloud was getting comfortable, maneuvering his stuffed chocobo around until he was happy, then tugged up the edge of the blankets and exhaled. Angeal smiled a little despite himself, and once assured that Cloud would be asleep again in a few minutes, closed his eyes again. This was nice.

* * *

Yuffie had faced down many things in her life. Not everyone was able to reload and shoot a gun, throw shuriken or knock someone out. She thought she was above the average person a little as far as street smarts and things like that went. There was one thing, though, that made even her—the White Rose of Shiroi Bara, which was redundant really—stumped.

"Fuck math," she sighed, dragging her feet as she walked home. Telling herself it was her last year of high school cheered her up a little. Soon she would graduate, and then she could do what she's always wanted to do full time. But until then, she'd have to suffer. At this rate she was going to need help again. She had a guy named Cloud for that. His apartment was a few floors below hers; she lived at the very top, wealthy ninja that she was. Usually she went to his apartment or brought him to hers to study (and no, it wasn't like _that_). He was nice, and seemed pretty smart in math even though she was convinced he was sort of an airhead sometimes. She laughed a little.

Yuffie turned onto the long street that lead to her home and stopped suddenly. In front of her apartment building, a familiar man was being dragged into a car by a small group of thugs.

...How often did one see something like that? She froze, then realized who it was.

Cloud Strife. Her buddy. He was currently being kidnapped.

"Shit!" she squeaked, flying into action. Yuffie ran towards the car. There weren't many people on the street this late at night; no one was around to stop them.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Let him go! I'm warning you!"

They all looked up, even Cloud, who had been struggling. One man's hand was covering his mouth. The guys ignored her, and the man holding Cloud brutally shoved him.

Cloud managed to elbow the men in the stomach. He broke away enough to shout, "Get back Yuffie!"

The teenager ignored him. Cloud was too nice, even in situations like this. He had no idea who she really was. Cloud was finally stuffed in the car and the door slammed shut behind him.

One of the men didn't get in the car. "Take care of the witness," a voice said from the driver's seat. It pulled away with a squeal of tires and was gone.

_Shit_!

The man turned to Yuffie. He was almost two whole feet taller than her.

"Out of my way, Gutter Dog," she told him. The man froze, then stiffened with recognition. It seemed he had no intention of listening to her, because he reached into his jacket pocket.

She struck before the man could react. A swift hit to the man's temple and another at the base of his skull made him slump to the sidewalk, unconscious. Yuffie promptly dragged the body into the alley between the building and the next.

Yuffie told herself not to panic. There was only one culprit—_Gutter Dogs_. That gang had been Shiroi Bara's annoying rival for years now. No other gang would have the balls to kidnap someone in Shiroi Bara territory.

* * *

The door closed behind him, and Cloud crashed face-first onto the seat of the car. There was a bang, and he saw a metal divider slap down between the front seats and the back. The doors locked, and the car flew into movement.

"Yuffie!" Cloud shouted raggedly, peering through the back windshield. In the darkness he could barely make out the shape of one of the thugs moving towards the smaller form of his somewhat friend. Why hadn't she listened to him and ran!

The reality of the situation was beginning to set in. Something near hysteria was beginning to rise in his chest; Cloud brutally pushed it down and pressed his ear to the metal barrier in the middle of the vehicle. His hands explored it for cracks or the like.

Just barely, he could make out what they were saying. One, he remembered, sported a goatee. The other was clean-shaven with fine light-brownish hair.

"—pretty one," one of them said faintly. "...Boss'll—"

The next man's reply was even more quiet, but he managed to catch the word 'Turk.'

Cloud collapsed back onto the seat and tried to control his breathing. He was hyperventilating. Passing out would be bad.

Alright—so he was being kidnapped. Fear clutched at his heart again. Why? Who? Where were they taking him? Did someone know?

Cloud cut off his own list of questions. Reno knew. He had called him before the guys had come . Reno was looking for him. Reno was a _Turk_. He'd be fine.

That only helped a little bit. Cloud nearly broke down, but he continued to stubbornly stay strong and began searching the car for anything that would help him out.

* * *

Yuffie darted into her building after hiding the Gutter Dog. Time was of the essence if she wanted to get Cloud back. This was a blatant challenge from the Gutter Dogs to the Shiroi Bara; she couldn't let this pass. Plus, it was her buddy they had targeted! There was some serious ass-kicking in the Gutter Dogs' future.

As she ran back down the stairs after getting what she needed from her room, she formulated a plan. At the bottom she sent a few well-placed texts, then watched as her screen lit up.

An undercover Shiroi Bara was a member of the Gutter Dogs. He had been Yuffie's faithful informant for a little over two years now.

The message from her informant made her nearly shout with joy. _He was one of the guys who took Cloud_. Headed towards a warehouse on the west side of city, it said. _Sweet_.

Yuffie hurried back outside. From her apartment she had grabbed a white rose (fake, but at least it looked real, right?). She placed it over the unconscious man in the alley's chest. She had no time to dispose of the body; with this, someone else would do it.

The sound of an engine steadily getting louder made her look up. Yuffie exited the alley and warily watched as a sleek black car pulled up.

She had a hunch as to who it was, and she was correct.

Reno the Turk burst out of the car, and his partner—Rude, if she remembered correctly—got out of the other side. He evidently had seen her, because he ran to her, looking off in the direction the car had gone.

"I'm a Turk," he announced breathlessly (as if Yuffie didn't know that already). "Did you see anything happen? Like-"

Yuffie cut him off. "Why are those guys after Cloud?" She piled on just the right amount of innocence to make it convincing; she was nothing but a shocked neighbor, after all.

Reno looked off-balance for a moment. He then shook his head slightly and said quickly, "Um, they found out he's...connected to me. We've gotta work together here if you know anything, yo-"

Yuffie kicked Reno in the crotch as hard as she could. Of course, she kept tabs on the few Turks she knew the identities of and had once inquired about the guy she sometimes studied with; she already knew that the two were "together." Whatever it was, it was this idiot's fault that Cloud was currently being driven somewhere. Reno went down with a loud groan.

Yuffie turned and stared down Rude. The other Turk looked confused, then slowly put up his hands. He seemed to recognize that she was no ordinary highschooler—and after another moment, a slight tensing of certain muscles made Yuffie realize he had realized who she _actually _was. The little white rose on the collar of her shirt may have given it away, even though it was subtle.

"I'm borrowing the car," Yuffie announced. Rude nodded and moved swiftly towards Reno, reaching into his coat pocket for the keys. Yuffie passed him, and after she carefully grabbed the keys, reached up and plucked the Turk's sunglasses off his face. She stepped on them.

Yuffie scrambled into the car, sent the injured Turk and his partner a quick glance, then shot forward. The informant was rapidly messaging both her and a few others—she admired him more in this moment than she admired over half her men. It was a dangerous job, that was for sure; he could easily be caught.

She was guided, through a series of disjointed, short texts, to a warehouse on the edge of the city. Surprisingly the location was still in Shiroi Bara territory. These Gutter Dogs had some serious balls. She realized how well she was keeping her calm and encouraged for it to continue. She dealt with incidents like this all the time... just usually she didn't know the target as well as she knew Cloud. Fuck.

When Yuffie got out of the stolen car, she was greeted by four of her subordinates. She recognized them—they were the four who lived closest to the location. Smart man, her buddy hidden on the other side was.

She quietly gathered them around and issued orders.

Cloud groaned. He was on his side on a gross, disgusting, cold floor, arms crudely tied behind his back. He just laid there, forced to listen as the two men who kidnapped him and seven others who were waiting there talked among themselves and basically ignored him.

He didn't doubt what he was there for at this point. There had been too many stares, and he had caught a few select words too many times. _Reno_, he thought desperately, _hurry the fuck up! _He had figured out he was being held somewhere and was to "wait until it was time to go to the Boss." These guys really didn't worry about letting him hear stuff. (It was then obvious that they didn't expect him to stick around long enough to tell anyone, didn't it?)

He began to rotate his wrists, trying to loosen the knots a little bit. No dice. He froze when one of the men looked his way. He was one of the two in the car, the one with the swishy brown hair. He stared at him for a long moment and then turned away, casually sticking a hand into his pocket. He was up to something, that was for sure. The ceiling of the place they were in was high; noises echoed, and he strained his ears to hear something else, anything else.

Cloud was starting to panic. After a short while where Cloud secretly tried to get free, he thought he heard a noise. It wasn't so much a noise, more like a bunch of little vibrations in the floor. He could feel them, as his whole body was pressed against it. He lifted his head up in confusion, just in time to see the doors to the place burst open.

He heard gunshots almost immediately. Cloud curled up on himself in fright and tried to make himself as small as possible, taking in a big, gasping breath when he heard someone shout in pain.

He heard something that made him open his eyes again. _Yuffie's_ voice came from behind him, loud and in a language he didn't understand. He rolled over, only to see Yuffie charging in and flinging what looked like a _ninja star—_like legit, like the one he saw in a museum once—at the man with the goatee who had driven him to the warehouse.

Cloud didn't have time to question what was going on; all he knew was that Yuffie's side was winning, and—

The suspicious man with the brownish hair from earlier ran towards another of the thug's sides, probably for help. Cloud jumped out of skin when the man whipped out a gun but, rather than aiming it at one of the _ninjas_ in the room, pointed it straight in the back of the head of the goateed man and fired. Cloud shut his eyes, imagining what happened even though he tried with every fiber of his being _not _to.

He didn't see what happened next, but he heard a bang, another yell, a second bang, and then his left arm exploded in pain.

Cloud's eyes flew open, and he knew that, without a doubt, he was going to die.

"Cloud!"

Yuffie skidded over to him and sank to her knees, grabbing his face with her hands. She was fuzzy at first, and then she slapped him. Then she came more into focus.

"Breathe, Cloud," she said. Her hair, usually neat and swished to the side a little, was all messy and tickled his face. "You're gonna pass out if you keep that up, dude!"

"...I wusshot," he garbled, sobbing dryly. "_Holy shit_-"

Yuffie frowned at him. "You're such a wuss," she groaned. Cloud continued to holler dazedly, struggling in his bonds, and she hit him again. "Cloud!" she barked, "You're not shot! Jeez!"

Cloud stopped panicking and looked down at his left bicep, where the pain was coming from. No, he wasn't shot—there was a little scrape on the side that was barely bleeding. He saw it and realized how lucky he was. He calmed and sagged onto the floor, and Yuffie looked at the cut herself before moving over to the man with the brown hair. He was on the floor, and one of the men who had entered with Yuffie was crouched over him.

"Youngwoon," Yuffie said carefully, addressing the healthy one. "How's Jungsu?"

Youngwoon bit his lip for a second, then nodded softly. "He'll be fine."

Yuffie sank to her knees beside Jungsu. He had known the extremely high risks when he had decided to be her ace in the hole in the Gutter Dogs. He had accepted the position though, even though Youngwoon—perhaps his closest friend—hadn't wanted him to. Things in gang life weren't at all like what your average civilian experienced in the slightest, however; he had no choice but to take it, really, more or less. And here he was now, bleeding with a bullet in his side in his friend's arms. All things considered, however, it could be worse. Cloud took one look at the guy and was glad that he wasn't involved in anything shady or complicated like a gang.

Cloud and the others looked around the warehouse, making sure that there wasn't anyone hiding. When the area was pronounced secure Cloud tried to relax some, pressing his hand against his scratch and turning back to the others. The guy—Jungsu—was limp in Youngwoon's grasp, and Yuffie's expression was dark as she felt his wrist.

"Gaia!" Cloud gasped in horror. _He's dead!_

Youngwoon scowled at him, and Yuffie said with a relieved smile, "Just blood loss. No worries." She left Jungsu in Youngwoon's care and addressed all the others in the room, who were tense, hands no doubt on the weapons in their pockets. "We've gotta move people!" she said firmly. It was amazing how everyone listened to her, such a young girl, but they did.

Cloud looked around the cold, dank warehouse one last time, deliberately not looking at any of the _bodies_, and when he turned back around he, Yuffie, Jungsu and Youngwoon were the only ones in the room, and those three were over by the door. Yuffie impatiently gestured for him to hurry up, and she helped Youngwoon get Jungsu more securely on his back. The ninja bowed as best he could to Yuffie, gave Cloud a surprisingly sympathetic look and left, seeming to melt and trickle away just as quickly as everyone else had, even with an unconscious man on his back.

Yuffie grabbed Cloud's hand and pulled him outside, and Cloud immediately began to ask questions. "What the hell is going on?" he puffed as they ran through the place out in the chilly late-night air.

Yuffie pulled something out of her pocket—Cloud had a hunch as to what it was—and answered, "You were targeted 'cause of that Reno guy. Somehow the Gutter Dogs-" Cloud recognized the name as one of the gangs that terrorized Midgar, "-found out you're, uh, connected to him, and, well." She wasn't even out of breath.

_What? Reno?_

He bewilderedly panted, "J-Just who the heck are you Yuffie?"

Yuffie grinned, made them run around a shady-looking storage shed of some sort, then jumped over a crate. "Second in command of the Shiroi Bara, the White Rose of Wutai and Midgar, Great Ninja Princess Yuffie Kisaragi herself!"

Cloud tripped. He fell forward and hit the ground almost comically, scraping up his palms a little on the gross, wet pavement. He barely noticed it, eyes huge and mouth hanging open as he bellowed, "WHAT!"

Smirking, Yuffie hauled him to his feet and began moving again. Cloud would have continued asking the girl questions, but they finally stumbled back onto one of the main streets, far away from the warehouse and no longer really in danger of being discovered, and they stopped to catch their breath. Cloud wondered where Youngwoon had taken Jungsu and if he was okay. The guy had taken some serious damage for him.

Yuffie looked around, tense and alert, and her gaze snapped onto a dark figure down the street a little bit. They were running. Cloud immediately moved to put himself in between the person and Yuffie (even though now he knew that Yuffie could defend herself—it was one of those manly instincts that he couldn't suppress). He relaxed, though, when the person turned out to be Reno, suit hanging off one shoulder as he stumbled towards them.

"Reno!" Cloud shouted, deserting Yuffie and running straight for his boyfriend. Reno realized it was him and he opened his arms up at the last second. Cloud flew into them and threw his own around Reno's neck, squeezing so hard it was probably painful but right now, neither cared.

A few tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes, but only a few. Reno's heart was beating so fast and hard that Cloud could feel it; how long had Reno been running? The poor guy had been trying to get to him this whole time, just like he knew he would—

"You found him," came a gruff yell. Rude squealed to a stop in a dinky-looking car. Reno didn't answer, gently pressing Cloud's face into his shoulder and cradling the back of his head with a shaking hand.

"Cloud-" Reno began in a choked voice.

Yuffie seized Cloud's arm and yanked him away from Reno. "Hey!" she shouted. "Get off him, _Reno—_it's your fault he was in this mess to begin with." She looked dangerously serious when she said, "You don't mess with my friends."

_Reno's fault_? Cloud looked at Reno, whose eyes were wide and who was suddenly all tense. He swallowed, looked at Rude for support and then said to Yuffie, voice still thick, "Y-You don't get it, yo."

"What's not to get?" Yuffie challenged. "Out of our way—we need to get his _wound_-" she sneered it, "cleaned up."

"What the heck, Yuffie?" Cloud muttered, giving a miniscule tug on his arm. Yuffie tugged him back after shooting Reno a distrustful look.

Reno just stood there, looking uncomfortable. Cloud's curiosity was piqued despite himself, and an unpleasant feeling made itself known in his stomach. There was something going on that he didn't know about, and he didn't think it was a good thing.

He said softly, frowning, "...What's up, Reno?"

The Turk looked at Rude helplessly. Rude shook his head and sighed, "Just tell him Red."

Reno swallowed again and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Look, baby—I kinda messed up, alright? Uh-" he stopped for a moment and fiddled with his tie, taking a step or two closer to Cloud (Yuffie backed him up), "I was with these guys we've pegged as Gutter Dog leaders, right, and we were playing poker, and I had to bet something that was important to me so I'd be able to get out in one piece-"

He stopped again and seemed unable to continue. Yuffie's grip on Cloud tightened with surprise, and Cloud went stiff as a board. ...Had he heard that correctly?

"...Wait," Cloud said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You...bet me in a poker game to...people in a _gang_?"

Reno winced. "Well, when you put it like that, yo-"

The reason he had been kidnapped from his apartment was because Reno had basically given those guys the green light to! The reason Reno had called right before they came, knowing what was going to happen was because he was the _cause_ of it. Who the fuck bet their _boyfriend _in a game of _poker_? He had gotten thrown into a car, tied up and left on cold, dirty, slimy ground, _shot_ and then Jungsu had gotten shot, all because of _Reno's _stupidity. And the whole time he had thought Reno was his saving grace who was going to rescue him, while really he was the _problem_. He had Yuffie to thank here—only Yuffie.

Reno went to him again and tried to gather him in his arms again, but Cloud shoved him off. The sad, empty feeling that came with knowing someone had betrayed him pulsed in his body like a heartbeat. Surprised, Reno backed up a few feet and immediately tried to console him, saying he was sorry and that he was here now and that he'd never do it again—Cloud didn't listen.

Yuffie stood to the side at this point, letting Cloud deal with Reno himself. She had known Reno had fucked up somehow, but she didn't know Reno had done _that_. Idiot. And it wasn't getting any earlier—it was dangerous to be out on the streets, especially after they had just taken out all those Gutter Dogs. Some Shiroi Bara were currently in there disposing of the bodies on her orders, but they couldn't take any chances and linger. They had to move.

Cloud shrugged off Reno's hands again, getting too angry to speak right. Judging by Reno's behavior everything he had said was true—his _boyfriend, _his _best friend, _the person he loved the most and who he had thought loved him_—_had done this!

Reno got slightly frustrated and grabbed his hands, saying sternly, "Look Cloudy—we're gonna go get you patched up, and then I can talk to you about all this-"

Cloud's fist flew out and smashed into Reno's nose with an audible crack. His fingernails dug more than one crescent-shaped line into his palm, but he didn't care, and he drew his fist back once more and punched him not in the face, but in the stomach.

Yuffie pulled him away from Reno, who stumbled back, clutching his face. Cloud realized what he had done and nearly began begging for forgiveness, but Reno deserved it, and he shot him a hard look before letting Yuffie take his hand and dart across the street and into an alley with him.

"It's okay," Yuffie reassured him as they made their way back to her parked car and then back to their apartment building. Cloud was all numb, refusing to think about anything that had happened that night and ignoring the way his hands shook constantly.

He almost stumbled out of the elevator onto his floor, but Yuffie made him ride all the way up to her place and gently pushed him inside, knowing how much his body and heart hurt.

They said nothing as Yuffie cleaned up the bloody cut on Cloud's arm, and besides a huge hiss of pain when she sprayed antiseptic on it (it seemed Yuffie had a lot laying around, and Cloud realized that that was probably for a good reason) there wasn't any other noise.

Afterwards Cloud sat still, staring at the floor, and Yuffie gingerly tried to get him to respond. She was nice, too nice, and in the morning Cloud would want to talk to her and get answers and thank her repeatedly for saving his ass, but right now he couldn't even look at her. "Gotta go," he managed, stumbling to the door and walking out. She seemed to understand and didn't try to follow him.

Cloud made it all the way home and in bed before he finally lost it.

* * *

Cloud woke jerkily, thrashing around in whatever was wrapped around him. _He couldn't move his arms—_he flailed and rolled until he had gotten it off him. His eyes opened and he stared at the rumpled blanket lying a few feet away. Oh.

He was on the floor. Cloud got to his knees, glanced at the couch and figured out what had happened.

..._Fuck_.

His forehead hit the carpet, and Cloud clenched his fists as he tried to shove his emotions back. That was one nightmare he'd had a few times too many. He didn't want to relive that... even now he didn't know how Reno could have _done_ that to him.

Every time anyone asked him how he was since then he'd say he was fine, that he was over it and didn't care. That was a lie; to this day, he was all hung up about it. Reno... he could never forgive him. Never.

He flopped over onto his side. He shouldn't have been so messed up from a dream... but he was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Remembering Yuffie made him smile. She was a handful, that was for sure. He was grateful. If it hadn't been for her, he'd be—

_That's enough_, he told himself firmly. He stood, grabbed the blanket and folded it, then stretched. Taking a shower seemed like a good idea; it would relax him. Plus, he stank.

He deposited Sebs on his bed and strolled into the bathroom. He turned on the water, stripped and got in. Bliss. Cloud rubbed his goosebumped arms and stepped fully under the spray.

It had happened a while ago. He could get over it. Right? Cloud tilted forward until he pressed his skull against the wall of the shower and exhaled slowly.

_Pull yourself together_.

He did. Cloud ran his hands over his face roughly, then stepped away from the wall. He eyed the shampoo sitting on the little in-shower shelf and smiled. It was _Sephiroth's_ brand. It was cool, because this was apparently what the man himself had used. It was mass-produced somehow and brought out to the public, and it had been a smashing success. He'd heard the General had had fabulous hair.

Cloud uncapped it, stuck his head in the water again and moved back as he worked the shampoo into his wet spikes. The stuff wasn't as popular as it once had been, since Sephiroth had been missing for a couple years, but Cloud still used it.

He grinned. There were thirteen different scents in this stuff—he always had fun trying to guess them all. He ran his fingers through his hair, spiking it all up in once cool mohawk-looking thing, then flattened it. This stuff smelled great.

Sephiroth glanced over his shoulder for the eleventh time, then peered into Cloud's room. Zack had locked the key to the cookie jar somewhere, and when it was Zackary, you had to look literally everywhere if you wanted to find something. So far he hadn't had any luck.

The room seemed to be empty. He slipped inside, closing the door a little so it looked like it had before, with it almost closed. He surveyed the room, and then checked under the man's pillow. Nothing. He checked the dresser, closet and bookshelf—still nothing.

He frowned and turned to leave, but something made him stop. There was... there was a bottle of _his_ shampoo sitting on the shelf of the shower. The curtain Cloud had put up was a few inches away from the wall, so it was visible.

_Why does Cloud...?_

Sephiroth glanced at the door and listened hard, making sure no one else was coming. Then he snuck into the bathroom. Cloud's clothes were lying in a heap on the floor. He stepped over them and silently stood by the curtain, feeling a bit like a creep. He pushed the curtain to the side a little bit.

He instinctively closed his eyes so he wouldn't get an eyeful of Cloud, who was _quite_ naked. He eventually had to open them though, so he could grab the shampoo and split.

He caught sight of the blond rinsing suds out of his hair out of the corner of his eye. This was... this was _his scent_ all over Cloud!

This kind had been his special brand back in Midgar. Of course, he was aware someone had gotten hold of whatever 'secret recipe' was used to make it and had created tons of replicas to sell to the public. It was surprising that they were so popular that someone like Cloud would have it.

Sephiroth crouched a little and reached out. The bottle was on the shelf in the front of the shower, almost underneath the showerhead, in the corner. Dammit. He closed his eyes the tiniest bit, then moved his hand the last foot or so forward until his fingers wrapped around the small bottle. His arm was getting soaked, but it was worth it.

Just as he reached out, Cloud stepped forward to twist one of the knobs to a warmer setting. Cloud's, ahem, lower stomach—and he meant _lower _stomach—pressed up against his arm. Sephiroth froze and Cloud backed up, frowning. He glanced down and then spun around, looking, and while his back was turned Sephiroth grabbed the bottle and fled. He was out of Cloud's room in under four seconds, hurrying left down the hallway and stuffing his prize into his coat pocket.

"What the hell?" Cloud mumbled, pushing the shower curtain aside and checking out the inside of the bathroom. He didn't see anything... could it have been—you know—one of the ghosts? Maybe? After a few seconds he gave up trying to figure out what had happened and returned to his shower.

When he was clean Cloud turned off the water and got out. The air was chilly, and he shivered as he rubbed himself down with a towel. Taking showers when it was cold out always sucked; it was always so freezing when you got out.

As he dressed, he glared at the shower curtain. He had put it up himself. Maybe he should have been grateful that they cleaned the glass up at all and shouldn't have been so angry, he thought, but quickly scrapped the idea. He missed the cool glass that had once been there.

After his shower, his growling stomach demanded an early lunch. He grabbed his unchecked mail and headed towards the kitchen. For a minute or two he poked around, trying to decide on what to eat, then eventually settled on grilled cheese.

Cloud looked around nervously as he got everything he'd need.

_I guess I don't need my rolling pin anymore, huh?_

He snorted at the memory. That day had been pretty intense. He smiled and put butter on the pan, then placed his two sandwiches side-by-side on top of it when it started sizzling.

Angeal was on his way to the basement for a short workout when he got a whiff of whatever was cooking in the kitchen. Curious, he stuck his head into the room and inhaled. Cloud was making something, and it smelled good.

Cloud didn't feel like dirtying up a spatula and instead picked up the pan and dumped his food onto a paper plate. Simple enough. He was about to clean up, but then looked at the mail he had brought in earlier. He picked it all up with his free hand and inspected the little paper on top.

It was an ad for the 'Nibelheim autumn festival' coming up soon. Apparently it celebrated the ending of summer and the approach of winter. It would be interesting. Beneath the slip of paper was junk mail and other advertisements. He seemed to get a lot—did these people think he was rich or something, because he lived in a mansion? ...

He tossed the stack to the side carelessly and went to the sink. He turned the faucet on and stuck the still-hot pan in the water, getting some odd sort of glee from the loud hissing noises. He knew it wasn't good for the pan, but really, who cared? ...His left side suddenly felt very warm. Cloud dropped the pan in the sink and turned—then he jerked so hard he nearly broke something.

The stove was on fire.

Cloud shouted and jumped backwards. Immediately he knew what he had done; he had thrown those papers right onto the hot burner!

"Uhhh! Uhhh—!" Cloud spun in place, looking for something that would put the fire out. The smoke alarm on the ceiling started shrieking, and he held his hands over his ears, dancing in place. He needed water! Or—or, baking soda, right? Since water would just make electrical fires worse! ...Or something! What was he supposed to do! The kitchen was gonna burn down and he'd be crushed by the ceiling falling down and they wouldn't find his corpse for weeks—

He was suddenly shoved to the side, and he crashed to the floor. The cabinet under the sink's doors opened, and a few loud bangs later, a bright red fire extinguisher came flying out.

_...Oh. That would have put it out too._

Cloud watched, stunned, as white foam erupted from the nozzle. The stuff covered the flame completely, spattering the walls and seeping down into the main part of the oven.

Angeal's eyes were wide as he stared at the big red thing in his hands. He had acted on instinct. Cloud seemed shocked—he looked like he was about to piss a golf ball. Sephiroth, Zack and Genesis came running in, all looking disheveled and alarmed. Zack's fly was down and the snap of his pants was open. They surveyed the scene and immediately came in to help. Sephiroth and Zack edged towards the stove, shooting Angeal weird looks, and Genesis quietly got up on a chair, stepped up on the table and began fanning the smoke alarm to make it stop beeping.

Cloud blinked at the hovering fire extinguisher. It was frozen in place, like the ghost had realized what it had done and was surprised too. He stared at it for a moment as he tried to understand, then stuttered as the words tried to come out all at once, "T-Thank you!"

Angeal nearly dropped the extinguisher. The others all met his gaze. It was like Cloud had sprouted tentacles.

_He's thankful?_

It was certainly a first.

Cloud fretted. One of the ghosts had saved him. Again. What did he do?

He grabbed his plate which was on the counter and held it out. "Uhh..." he said to the extinguisher, which floated down to the ground, like someone had put it down, "You can have one of my grilled cheeses if you want, since you, you know, just... did that and stuff. Consider it my, uh, thank-you. I dunno if ghosts like that, though..."

He eventually shut up and waited.

Angeal grinned. "Go me," he tossed over his shoulder at the others. Zack mumbled something in his normal voice, but Cloud didn't hear it, luckily.

A chunk of one of the sandwiches disappeared before his eyes. It really was... the craziest thing.

Suddenly he got scared. Getting closer, even this little bit, to his ghosts was _terrifying_. He scurried to the table, dropped his plate onto it, grabbed a bag of chips out of the cabinet and sat. He watched the area around Angeal cautiously.

"This kid makes good food," Angeal said calmly to his envious companions. "Looks like I was in the right place at the right time."

* * *

With a sigh, Reno flopped onto his bed. It really was more like a cot than a bed—whoever had filled these shitty rooms at the Inn deserved to be shot.

This was a really boring mission. Reno wasn't sure how long he'd have to stay in this hellhole, either-Tseng hadn't been too specific. There wasn't exactly much to do in this town, other than drink, and even though Reno certainly didn't mind alcohol, he wasn't too excited by the thought. This was a mission, after all; he had to show at least a little bit of professionalism.

So, he was in a bit of a pickle. Nothing to do. Nothing exciting in his future. Just... spying on Cloud.

As usual, when he got this bored, his thoughts went to his ex-boyfriend. Being so close—in the same town, even—was maddening. Fuck, he wanted to go talk to him. He groaned quietly and buried his face in his pillow. It was so cold in this stupid town. He'd never get used to it.

His phone buzzed. Reno lifted his head up and fished it out from under his bed, where it had fallen earlier.

"Yo," he answered, pressing a button and holding it to his ear. He was too tired to check who it was.

"...Reno."

Reno almost fell off the bed. "Commander!"

Tseng didn't seem amused. He cut right to the chase and said briskly, in a tone that made Reno snap to attention, "This line is secure. There's something you must do for me."

"What is it?"

"Nibelheim Manor," Tseng said, completely serious. "I need you to go. Barnaby Hojo has a series of logs in there, detailing his actions. There's one in the house somewhere, and I need you to find it."

Reno nodded once. "Yes Sir."

Tseng's voice suddenly dropped an octave. "I don't think I need to tell you that you are not permitted to read this report." Reno heard the danger in the man's tone and gulped. Alright. No reading whatever he found. Got it. It wasn't like he would want to. Whatever Hojo had put his Commander through was bad enough that it had killed the four greatest SOLDIERs who ever lived (probably). It was a miracle Tseng had survived. He was a real hero. He had no intention of finding out whatever Hojo had done.

"No Sir," he agreed.

"Do whatever you need to in order to retrieve it."

"Yes Sir." Ugh, he hated formalities, even with Tseng.

Tseng let out a sigh so quiet Reno almost didn't hear it, then said softly, "Good. And Reno—I need it soon. As soon as you can get it."

"Alright, Sir." Reno glanced out the window up at Cloud's house. "You can count on me."

Tseng said something else and hung up. Reno didn't hear him; he was too focused on the mansion on the mountain. He dropped the phone on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It seemed... he now had a reason to visit Cloud. Fancy that.

* * *

The movie Cloud was watching was a good one. The armchair he had chosen was opened up, and Cloud stretched out as he scarfed down more popcorn. The sound washed over him in waves, making his whole body thrum and vibrate. The 3-D glasses on his nose were slipping down, and he pushed them up with his finger.

A missile shot straight for him. Cloud gave a little gasp of surprise, then laughed when he realized he had actually gotten scared.

"He's so cute," Zack whispered, leaning against Genesis two rows back. Because the movie was so loud he didn't have to worry about disguising his voice.

When the movie ended Cloud turned off the screen with the remote and sagged into his chair. It was really comfortable and hugged his body just right. Did he stay and snooze, or did he drag himself upstairs to bed?

With a groan, Cloud forced himself up. If he slept there he'd probably end up with a super sore neck. He flicked the lights off as he left, got all the other lights on the first floor, then plodded upstairs.

He almost missed it, because he was so sleepy, but just before he turned to go into his bedroom he stopped. In the bathroom down the hall—the IcyHot one, he noticed with a frown—someone was taking a shower. The door was shut, he could see the light on through the small gap near the floor, and he could hear the water running. The scent of Sephiroth's special shampoo was everywhere.

Cloud froze. For a minute he debated what to do. Did he go and yell, or did he let them be? He actually took a few steps towards the bathroom, then stopped and hurried to his bedroom. He shut the door, dragged a chair over to it and jammed it underneath the doorknob. He was nice... but not _that_ nice.

"Night Sebs," he sighed, crawling into bed. He tucked Sebastian under his chin and turned off the light.

* * *

"Genesis," Angeal breathed.

The redhead's arms were hooked around his neck. Angeal was half-bent over the bed, trying to stay upright. Genesis was tilting back, though, and in a few seconds they'd pitch forward. That was fine.

Beside them, Sephiroth was sitting on the edge of the bed. Zack stood a few feet in front of him; he was in the process of shedding his shirt. The ex-First finally got it off and tossed it to the side. He practically fell onto Sephiroth, who was smiling, eyes narrowed.

Sephiroth's hands ran over Zack's back, and he scooted backwards and tugged the man forward by his belt loops with one hand. The other snuck into his back pocket. Sephiroth froze.

"_That's _where that key was?" He asked in disbelief, pulling it out and holding it up. He had suffered, trying to find it, and he hadn't even gotten into the cookie jar in the end.

Zack laughed and rolled off him. He hooked his arm with Angeal's and said with a grin, "I knew I put it somewhere where you'd never look—I forgot about it, though."

Sephiroth's lips pressed together tightly and he tossed the key across the room onto the dresser. Genesis chuckled at him, then began kissing Angeal.

After a brief moment of feeling sour, Sephiroth smiled at Zack. It was alright—and Zack tasted better than cookies anyway.

* * *

Wide blue eyes stared up at the ceiling in the darkness. He couldn't sleep. He had gotten close, but then... it had started.

The bed a few doors down was creaking uncontrollably. He could hear faint squeaks and the clangs of the springs just barely, but it was enough to bother him.

_What the fuck?_

He tossed and turned, trying to sleep. It wasn't any good; he had been hearing this for so long his brain was coming up with the sounds too by this point. He stuck his head under the pillow. Still no good.

In a fit of rage he threw his pillow against the wall. The squeaks continued. There may have been voices, but he figured it was all in his head. He didn't know anymore.

Three minutes later he snapped. Cloud sprang out of bed and stomped out into the hallway. He stopped outside the room where everything was coming from, then flung it open.

"Some people are trying to fucking sleep!" he shouted. The room was dark, so he couldn't see much of anything, but he was positive something was there. "Would you mind keeping it down!"

His voice effectively masked the sound of four men gasping and cursing, and even the sound of one of them tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. Cloud slammed the door shut and scampered back to his room, surprised at himself.

"That _hurt_, Angeal!" Genesis roared. "Give a man some warning before you just pull out like that-"

"Excuse me!" Angeal spat back, on the floor with a now-sore shoulder. "It's not like I did that on purpose—I fell!"

"I think I just had a heart attack," Zack wheezed. Sephiroth nodded weakly.

Cloud slept well after that; he didn't hear another peep.

* * *

The next morning, Cloud was nothing but excited for that afternoon. He'd get to see Tifa and her new "bar." It wasn't for a while, though; that was later on in the day.

He lounged in bed for a little bit. There wasn't anything he had to do, so he could afford to just rest, listen to the sounds of the mansion and things outside and watch the ceiling.

Before too long, though, his peaceful sort of limbo was ruined. The doorbell rang.

"...Ugh," he moaned, throwing the covers off himself and shivering. Fall in Nibelheim was already freezing early in the morning. He briefly wondered when the first snow came.

Whoever was at the door rang again half a minute later. "I'm coming!" Cloud yelled as he hurried down one of the main staircases in his pajamas. He finally pulled the door open, and a delivery man—but one not nearly as awesome as he was—smiled at him. A _huge_ giant... boxed _thing _was with him. There was a smaller box tucked under his arm.

"I got an order for a 'Cloud Strife,'" the man said in an accent he couldn't quite place. "You him?"

"Uh..." Cloud blinked. "Yeah, but I didn't..." The man frowned and flipped through the pages on his clipboard.

"I didn't buy this."

"Hmm," the guy hummed, "Looks like you didn't. Some guy called an' bought through the phone an' said it was to be sent here."

Cloud was mystified. "...Um-"

"Look," he said, getting impatient. "This is for you, an' that's that." He wheeled the box in the house, carefully getting up the little step.

"Hey," Cloud protested, following the man as he brought it into the center of the foyer.

"Where you want it?" The man was clearly agitated. When Cloud didn't answer he grunted, "Here? Sounds good."

He managed to get it off the dolley and onto the floor. Cloud continued to argue, and the man lost his patience. He thrust his clipboard out and barked, "Sign this!"

Cloud jumped and meekly signed it. The man managed a tense, tight "thank you" and left, shutting the door behind him with far more force than needed. He was cursing.

"What was _his_ problem?" Cloud asked out loud in disgust.

He walked over to it and inspected the stickers. They didn't tell him much.

_What is it?_

It was taller than he was and probably more than twice as wide. He walked around it, looking for tape to cut or a flap he could lift to get to it.

The box tilted, and Cloud nearly had a heart attack, but it stopped eventually and the top was crudely ripped open.

"Be _careful_," Sephiroth hissed. Zack stopped killing the box, winced, and opened it more carefully. Angeal and Genesis came down the stairs, looking quietly excited.

Cloud watched as the box was fully opened, and a humongous pane of patterned glass came sliding out of the box.

Everyone rushed to it and took a corner. Cloud retreated a few steps when the glass started hovering parallel to the floor.

"It's slipping, it's slipping," Genesis whispered. He was doing more harm than good and Zack pushed him away, talking control of one whole side. They carefully began carrying it upstairs.

Cloud was absolutely shocked.

He tried to follow it, but he wasn't allowed. The big cardboard box floated up and waved around just a few feet in front of his face. Cloud knew what it was; it was a warning.

Eventually Zack asked, "…Anyone know how to do this?"

No one had any idea.

Downstairs, Cloud cautiously peered at the ceiling. He could hear noises.

…What to do now? He shifted nervously. It didn't look like he was allowed to go upstairs any time soon. Watching television seemed like the best choice—only choice, really. Cloud headed towards the room with the TV, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly.

This meant they were doing something else nice, weren't they? That glass… Cloud had a feeling they were going to fix his shower.

What kind of ghost did a thing like that? He was momentarily humbled by the ghosts' kindness, but then he remembered that it had been their fault that it was broken in the first place. That stopped the worst of his grateful thoughts, but he couldn't help but still be a little thankful.

This whole situation was so surreal.

Cloud ran a hand through his hair and curled up against the arm of the couch he was on. He kept checking the entrance of the room so often it was like his neck had a tic or something. It was just that he felt like something was going to happen. Maybe. He was tense and uptight at the moment, but who could blame him?

When Tifa called an indefinable amount of time later, Cloud nearly wept with relief. He had worked himself up over the incident, and now he was convinced that the glass was going to come cut him to bits or slice him up.

"Hey!" he gushed enthusiastically.

"…Hi!" Tifa said back, confused at how happy he sounded but returning it.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," Tifa answered. Cloud could hear movement; she must have been putting shoes on or something.

They decided, after Cloud repeatedly offered, to have Tifa be picked up on Fenrir and they'd drive there. Almost immediately after he hung up, Cloud darted to the laundry room for some clothes (because there was no way he was trying his luck and going upstairs) and then got out of the house. It was scary, being in there; he had never been looking forward to going for a drive so much before.

Fenrir was a breathtaking sight, as always. It was shiny and clean and glittering, just like it had when he first bought it. And… the ghosts had made his possible (though, they were the ones who messed it up, too). Cloud smiled despite himself and got on Fenrir after making sure his jacket was tight and he wouldn't freeze.

The ride down to Nibelheim was nice. Already some trees were starting to lose leaves; everything else was pretty reds, oranges and yellows. As he had grown up in Midgar, nature had never been something he'd been exposed to too much, and now that he was living out in the country he couldn't get enough.

Cloud stopped outside Tifa's house, smiling when a little boy across the street on the sidewalk began staring at Fenrir.

_Yeah—I have a sweet ride._

Tifa answered her door about half a minute after he knocked. She looked pretty today, and Cloud told her so with a smile. She smiled at that. They both got on the bike, and after a small moment of awkwardness Tifa hugged him from behind, holding on tight.

"Where to?"

Tifa gave him directions as they drove. Tifa's 'bar' was across town, in a part that was even more plain and backwards—if it was possible—than where most of the shops and things were.

"Here it is," Tifa said loudly by his ear so he could hear it. "Turn left and stop." Cloud slowed and parked Fenrir.

What Tifa started walking towards was the shittiest, most disgusting, most terrible, dirtiest place he had ever seen. There was a _bullet hole_ through a pane of filthy glass in one of the windows. The wooden door looked rotted. There was probably a demon inside.

This was it?

Tifa used a key and opened the door, striding in confidently. Cloud hurried after her, squeezing inside and looking around.

"This is it," Tifa breathed, looking really, really happy. Cloud suddenly understood. Even though it was disgusting, it was _hers_. With hard work, it could be great.

"…I think I just saw a bat."

Tifa punched him, and it hurt a hell of a lot more than he expected it to. Cloud groaned; Tifa smirked.

After poking around, Tifa began telling him her plans. "That room will be the kitchen," she said, pointing. "The bar will go here, and back there, by that wall, will be the booths-"

Cloud watched her with a silly smile on her face. Her excitement was spilling into him. The gross, dark, moldy building suddenly didn't seem quite as bad as he had originally thought.

Tifa brought him upstairs. They were probably rotted and they creaked dangerously, but they got up without any problems. There wasn't much to the second floor, just two bedrooms and a bathroom neither dared to go into.

Cloud blew some dust off a banister, coughed and asked, "Do you plan on living here when everything's done?"

"Yeah," Tifa answered. "This is going to be my house too. It'll be nice to get away from my father a little."

Independence was a wonderful thing. "It sure will be," Cloud agreed, then led her back downstairs. There wasn't too much they could do right now, so they mostly just poked around and threw some stuff in a trashcan they discovered under a gross, blackish-brown counter.

Afterwards, they ate out at a little restaurant a few blocks away, since Tifa was starving and Cloud could have eaten if he wanted to, even though he had eaten lunch not too much earlier. It was pleasant and they chatted about plans for the future. All, or almost all, of the awkwardness between them had gone away.

"We have to hang out again soon," Cloud told her happily once he parked Fenrir back in front of her house about an hour later.

Tifa brushed her hair behind her ears and said with a smile, "Sure. I'm not exactly sure when I'm going to start actual renovation, but I'll let you know."

"Please do." Tifa handed him the helmet he had made her wear and crossed the street to her house, waving before letting herself inside. It was a well-spent afternoon, in his opinion.

When Cloud got home, the first thing he did was jog to the staircase. He had to use the bathroom, and badly. He stopped short on the bottom step. Was… he allowed to go upstairs?

For a few seconds he stayed frozen, just staring up at the second floor. When nothing happened, he began to cautiously creep up. He made it to the top of the stairs without incident, and he quickly hustled to his room. Everything looked normal. He held his breath for a second and then stuck his head into the bathroom.

…_Holy shit._

The glass was back. Where there had been a big, empty gap was now a new door. It was really pretty too, even more so than the last one had been. There were all sorts of tools, glue, caulk and things on the floor.

Cloud smiled brilliantly, then left to go use the bathroom down the hall, since he wasn't quite comfortable thinking about using his just yet.

Genesis sighed. He, Angeal, Zack and Sephiroth were all lying or sitting on the bathroom floor, completely exhausted. Installing glass in a shower was apparently far harder than any of them had thought it would be.

Genesis had complained the whole second hour they had been working, but everyone could tell he had enjoyed it somewhat. He lifted his head off the floor and moaned, "Ugh… he better appreciate this!"

The smile Cloud flashed made all their hard work almost worth it. It was better than nothing..

There was the whole rest of the day to kill, Cloud realized as he washed his hands. In fact, there wasn't anything in his future. He had to secure more deliveries so he could do something, or his days would start to blend together in a haze of doing absolutely nothing. He needed some drama, some excitement. Sometimes he wished he worked in an office, where he had to be in his cubicle by eight and got to leave at five, then repeated the whole thing the next day. But he also didn't wish that—his freedom was nice, even though it got boring sometimes.

Cloud didn't know what he wanted. He was constantly in limbo, floating around. He was even like that for the rest of the day, wishing he was doing something when he was watching TV, but then wishing he was relaxing when he was cleaning up. Eventually he made dinner when the time was appropriate.

Then the doorbell rang. Again.

Cloud almost hissed. If it was another bastard delivery man they were going to die. He practically stomped towards the door and opened it with a deadly scowl on his face.

Reno.

Cloud stared at Reno. Reno stared back at Cloud dumbly. Neither moved nor blinked.

Then Reno said softly, "…Hey."

Cloud flinched, back and shoulders going rigid and tense like a cat's when startled. Words were stuck in his throat, but he managed a shaky, barely there, "R-Reno—what-"

Reno looked around the porch, then peeked inside. He looked almost the same as he had when they were dating. His hair was a little bit shorter and he had put on a bit more healthy weight, but that was it. It was almost like no time had gone by. His gaze swept over the inside of the house, then washed over Cloud, standing in his jeans and shirt from his 'date' with Tifa earlier.

"Nice place you've got here," He said in a voice devoid of its usual cockiness. He smiled at Cloud—it was a soft one. Kind. Cloud was silent.

"I think Cloud has a visitor," Sephiroth said first, having picked up on a faint, foreign voice before the others.

The four Invisibles were just as bored as Cloud had been for the past few hours, and without anything better to do and feeling nosy, they headed to where Cloud was to see who he was talking to.

"Reno?" Zack blurted when he saw him. "The Turk trainee?"

The guy had been skinnier and much, much younger the last time they had seen him, but it was, without a doubt, the teenager they all remembered. He used to be the Turk's little pet and annoyed everybody. But he was a full-fledged Turk now; he was in standard Turk uniform, but he wore it messy. They moved closer, curious.

Reno took a miniscule step forward, and the dam broke. Cloud took a huge step back and yelled, absolutely furious, "Why are you here?"

How had Reno found him? Was he following him? What—

"Cloud, listen—"Reno tried to squeeze in. Cloud's screaming was making him cringe a little.

Cloud ignored him. "No! I don't know why you're here, and I don't want to know. Just go away!"

"Woah," breathed Angeal, who honestly couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say. Cloud, who was usually excitable but mostly semi-calm, was freaking out. How did Cloud, their crazy marshmallow-boy, know a Turk?

By now, Reno was starting to plead. "Cloud—look, yo-"

Cloud gripped the edge of the door and slammed it shut. Reno stuck his foot out in time that it didn't shut, and he grimaced.

The Turk seemed to come to a decision and said firmly, showing some back bone, "I'm not letting you keep me away and be all pissy again. You don't _know_ everything, babe-"

"Don't call me that!" Cloud spat. "And I know everything I _need_ to know."

Genesis swore quietly. "...Holy shit."

Reno stepped inside, getting desperate. This wasn't going quite as planned.

With words, Cloud tried to kick Reno out. He didn't want to touch him or be touched _by_ him_—_not the man how had _sold him off_ like an object. He started to panic when Reno didn't leave and got closer. He didn't want to see Reno, hear Reno, _think _about Reno—_why was he here_?

In a risky move that could have made Cloud finally snap, Reno reached out and gathered Cloud in his arms. Holding Cloud seemed like the right thing to do, and he couldn't resist it.

Cloud struggled weakly, but his heart wasn't in it. The truth was he had never really given up on Reno. He had been so happy before Reno's stupid move, and he missed him. If Reno was sorry...

He squeezed Reno as hard as he could after a moment of complete stillness and sniffed. He wouldn't cry. Reno smiled, and even though it was a sad one, there was some degree of happiness in there. The air from outside was chilly and freezing both of them, but neither made a move towards closing it. Instead, Reno cupped Cloud's face.

When Reno kissed Cloud, for a moment Cloud forgot everything Reno had done. For a moment they were happy and together again, living in Midgar in the same apartment and were only worried about missions, how long food had to cook for and deliveries, rather than spirits and ghosts and wars. Reno tasted just like he always had. He needed Reno as bad as Reno needed him, and he moved one arm from around Reno's chest to around his neck, refusing to let him draw away.

But then, Cloud remembered what was real. Reno had _bet_ him in a _poker _game and had nearly gotten him killed—he wasn't about to forgive him.

Cloud pressed his lips tightly together and leaned back violently. He pushed Reno away. Reno blinked, surprised, and Cloud flew at him, pushing and trying to whack him and get him to _leave_. Reno's Turk training made sure nothing the blond tried worked.

It had been so long—a little over a year, was it?—without Cloud. Now that Reno had the man right back in front of him, and in his arms, even, he really realized how much he had missed him. Reno gently grabbed Cloud's face again. Kissing had calmed Cloud down before; he simply had to show Cloud that he wasn't about to let him go again, and they'd be fine. Cloud jerked back when Reno's mouth covered his again. Both of Reno's hands went to the back of his head, trying to keep him in place.

Cloud made a low sound of distress when he realized that no, Reno was not about to go away any time soon. He managed to get his one arm free—it had previously been trapped in between their chests—and he aimed a tightly-clenched fist at Reno's gut. It never connected.

Something warm clamped onto his upper arm and tore him away from his ex-boyfriend. The grip—and it was a _grip, _Cloud noticed in a moment of pure panic—was so tight and strong it almost hurt.

Reno had the time to blink at him in confusion before he suddenly doubled over. He choked, eyes widening in pain. Then the collar of his shirt bunched up, and Cloud watched, shocked, as the Turk was dragged out of the house by an invisible force. A dazed Reno was hauled out the door and quite literally thrown off the porch. The door shut with a bang that echoed.

Cloud realized something was lightly smacking his cheek. He turned wide, slightly wet blue eyes to the side but nothing was there.

A deep, worried voice asked, "Are you okay?"

Cloud couldn't speak.

"Shit," sighed another voice from his right. Cloud turned; nothing was there.

A third voice said awkwardly from behind him, "Uhh... Boo?"


	18. Meet the Invisibles

**CM: Do I have an excuse? Uh...no. *hides* Um...I'll let Tobi handle this one. But thank you all for the reviews and waiting so patiently. Love you all!**  
**Tobi: o.o :D been a while, heh. ._. I'll spare you the bs and get on with the show! Counting by 50, at 1350 was Silverstargirl, Key Shinigami, mayakun, Death-of-Penguins-and-Zannah, Siobhan, and my new good friend Wilowitch at 1600. We got 235 reviews for chapter 17, guys. Seriously. We were so happy we died. Um, this chapter is extremely dialogue heavy (but I think that's what you guys have been waiting for, isn't it? :3) Now go! I love you all so much! And ffnet has deleted our page breaks in other chapters, I hear-I'll fix that soon. **(**also! CM and Tobi met each other IRL. It was awesome.) (alsoalso: nicknames, you'll love em. We do.)  
**

* * *

With shaking hands, Cloud seized one of the chairs and forced the top underneath the doorknob. A proper barricade would be stronger; what else was there? Bed, little table, lamp—

He heard a noise. Cloud's head spun and he scrambled, panicking, to throw himself against the door. His body weight wasn't much, but it was something.

On the other side of the door were his ghosts.

They had spoken to him downstairs. To him. They had kicked Reno out of his house, touched him and said real _words_ to him. He had been fine, managing a shaky "yes" to whoever had asked if he was okay. Then a smooth voice had said his name and gingerly touched his shoulder, and he lost it. In what felt like just a few seconds he had sprinted all the way up to his room, and then slammed the door shut when he heard loud footsteps behind him.

This barricade made him feel stronger. Less... vulnerable. Cloud futilely tried to calm down, breathing heavily and twitching his fingers. He pressed an ear to the door and held his hand over his mouth, trying to be quiet.

He could hear them. "Now what?"

"We should leave him be."

"No way—we're here and it's time, let's do this."

"Poor kid. I think you scared him."

"...It wasn't on purpose."

_Holyshit. _ A weak, high-pitched noise escaped him and he slid to the floor. The voices outside disappeared. For a minute there was silence. Cloud once again clapped a hand over his mouth and nose, trying not to make any sound.

Then someone said, close-by, like they were speaking into the keyhole beneath the doorknob, "...Hey."

Cloud skittered away in disbelief. The doorknob didn't turn; no one forced themselves in; they were just waiting patiently. There... maybe wasn't as much to fear as he had originally thought. Cloud crawled back to the door and peered through the tiny hole just in case, pushing the chair to the side a little with his head.

Genesis suddenly saw a bright blue eye appear, and he flashed a smile up at the others. They'd have to take this slowly and be careful—this would be tricky. Could they really blame Cloud, though?

Cloud saw nothing and bit his lip. Very cautiously, gripping the fabric of his pants over his thighs, he whispered, "Hello?"

After a second's wordless debate, Genesis stood and Angeal took his place. Something about the man was calming, and calming was what they wanted.

"Hello," Angeal said warmly.

Cloud's voice came back more meek than they had ever heard it. "...So...you're my g-ghosts?"

_More or less. _ "You could say that."

His forehead fell forward to rest against the wood of his door. Cloud shivered, skin breaking out in goosebumps. He was tense, waiting for something to happen... but nothing was. Not yet, anyway.

_What am I supposed to say? _ Nothing was happening while he just sat there, so Cloud said weakly, "...Hello."

Angeal flapped his hands and the other three sat down, pressing close to him so they could hear.

"Are you sure you're okay? Not hurt at all, we hope?"

There was something ironic about asking this boy if he was okay, they all realized. Zack winced but eagerly waited for Cloud's answer. The Reno thing was still a big question in their minds but now there were bigger things to worry about.

"I'm—I'm fine." Cloud stopped and thought back to how Reno had 'left' his house. "Did _you_ get rid of him?"

"That was us, yes." Zack bumped fists with Genesis.

Maybe he should be thankful? Cloud was about to come up with a thank you when he finally realized what the fuck was going on. He went up on his knees and splayed his hands out on the wood. "Wait—you can _talk_!"

"Dammit," Angeal whispered. They all knew this was coming. They had tortured the kid, for crying out loud—there was no way they'd get off the hook so easily.

Cloud continued, "You're the ones who did all that shit to me? You beat me up and ruined my bike and—"

Someone cut him off before he could go on. "We fixed your bike, didn't we?"

"_Yeah_ , but that doesn't make up for everything else—"

"If you'd let us apologize—"

"I don't want an apology! You guys nearly killed me—"

"Rub it in, why don't you—"

Angeal had his head in his hands and finally bellowed, "Alright, _stop_! Both of you, shut up." He glared at Genesis and then at the door, even though Cloud couldn't tell. "Yeah, that was us, Cloud. All of it. We've realized by now you're not a threat to us. We're sorry. Really sorry. Okay?"

Cloud nearly fell over. A stupid apology would _never _make up for this. He nearly kept yelling, but then spotted Sebastian lying on his bed. The poor guy had been hung from his ceiling fan, he remembered that... these 'ghosts' could pack a punch. It wasn't any use fighting with them until he knew they wouldn't fight back. Or until he got more paintballs. 'Till then, he'd try to chill a little bit.

"...Okay," Cloud said slowly. He rose and got Sebastian. "I get it."

All five took a moment to collect themselves. Then Zack said, "So. There's four of us and we're not gonna leave, sorry buddy. I think we can manage to live together in peace, though. Whattaya say?"

Cloud swallowed thickly. He sat down by the door again. "...We can try," he whispered.

"Good!" said the voice cheerfully.

"Uh, so... we're roommates, I guess," Cloud said, wrinkling his nose.

"Yup!"

Five seconds later, something snapped.

Cloud let out a gut-busting laugh and leant back so much he fell onto his back, arms flying up and launching his toy chocobo at the ceiling fan. "Ahahaha! HAHAHA!" He cracked up, rolling around on the floor. Sebastian fell down on his face, and Cloud grabbed his leg and threw him again.

Outside, the Invisibles looked at each other, saying nothing.

"Oh Gaia, ahahaahaa—GaiaGaiaGaia," Cloud chuckled, voice going softer with each syllable. Eventually he was muttering curses to himself, interrupted by little spurts of laughter.

"Shit," Sephiroth swore. Of course this was going to happen.

Cloud wiped tears of mirth off his face and giggled, "I'm talking to ghosts, I'm talking to ghosts, I'm talking-"

"Cloud?" Angeal asked hesitantly.

The blond screamed at the top of his lungs. He sprang to his feet, still yelling, and ran to the wall farthest away from the door. The four in the hallway all jumped as there was a huge thump; Cloud had thrown something at the door. Then there was another, and another. Inside the room, Cloud threw his last pillow and screamed louder, his own panic making him even more scared.

"GET AWAY! DON'T TALK TO ME! Oh, _shit—_"

He let out a sob as he trashed his room. One of those _things _outside told him to calm down and Cloud did exactly the opposite; he grunted and planted a foot against the wall, and let out a whoop of victory when he managed to knock his dresser over.

T here were _GHOSTS_ OU T**SI**DE they TALKING t**o** _him_ remember POISONING WAR blood **broken glass **k nives

He was going crazy! _Crazy! _Everything that had happened since his arrival at Nibelheim Manor played in his head again like a movie. The fear he felt when he had been trapped in the shower, when he woke up and found 'SEVEN DAYS' on his forehead, when he was pinned down on the steps and when he went to war with these fuckers was back, and worse than it had ever been before.

Cloud screeched and picked up his mattress, chucking it at the door with frenzied, inhuman strength. One of the legs on the chair broke at the impact, and the sheets on the mattress slid out in every direction. He tripped over a half-exploded shampoo bottle he had thrown in from the bathroom and hit his knee on the box spring.

His knee hurt, but Cloud didn't even really notice. There was a hole in the top of the box spring, and...

Cloud let out a scream—a _real_ one—as a furry raccoon head popped out and turned to look at him. Cloud fell over and did a backwards somersault, not expecting it at all. Bandit—and Cloud knew for sure it was _Bandit—_jumped out and scampered over to him. Creepily human little paws touched his side, and a rough tongue licked his cheek.

The door burst open, Cloud's little 'barricade' nothing at all to the SOLDIERs outside. The alarmed Invisibles took in the destroyed room, and the hysterical boy rolling around on the ground.

"Bandit!" Zack exclaimed, recognizing the little guy that had disrupted Cloud's Halloween party. Cloud rolled around on the ground, trying to cover his head and push the raccoon away at the same time.

Sephiroth was closest and tried to shoo him away. Bandit bared his little teeth and screamed the same horrible scream he had done before, startling Cloud so bad he jumped literally off the floor. The ex-General was not one to be deterred by an animal, though, and swiped for him; Bandit rolled away from Cloud and darted out of the room before anyone could grab him.

"...Well, shit," Zack joked, nudging a toe against the overturned mattress.

Cloud recovered, getting up off the floor and slapping and hitting Sephiroth, who he had heard get close.

"Stop that," Sephiroth growled, deflecting Cloud's blows with one hand and looking at the other three for help. Cloud started kicking, and he managed to chase the ghosts out of his room. He pushed someone out and slammed the door, pressing his back against it and digging his heels into the carpet.

Then, Cloud started to breathe.

It wasn't normal breathing or even sort of normal breathing; Cloud repeatedly took in giant gulps of air that hurt his lungs and made him let loose loud noises, but he didn't notice. Panic attacks weren't things that Cloud was really prone to having, but right now, having survived a raccoon attack and all the other _crazy fucking shit _in his life, Cloud felt he was allowed to have one. He fell onto his side, hyperventilating.

The Invisibles were absolutely shocked.

Genesis muttered, leaving to go downstairs and saying exactly what the others were thinking, "_What the hell_."

Cloud tried to calm down, but he was stuck in some terrible place full of scariness and bullshit and ghosts and jolly ranchers and Ouija boards.

_Fuck my life, seriously._

Something poked him in the butt. Cloud gasped and turned his head. A little piece of paper retreated and then was slotted through the crack at the bottom of the door a few inches to his right, underneath the chair. Cloud snaked his arm underneath it and grabbed the note.

_Dear Cloud, _

_Take a chill pill, please. __ASAP._

Genesis scowled and twirled the pen he had gotten off a table downstairs. Good ideas—they were his specialty.

For a minute more Cloud trembled, wheezed and thrashed, but eventually he got himself under control. Mostly. He retrieved Sebastian from the bathroom where he had ended up, wedged between the toilet and the wall and brought him back with him, patting his head.

"I'm so sorry," he said miserably.

"Freak out much?" someone quipped. They all thought he was crazy, probably, if they hadn't already.

Cloud scrubbed at his cheek which tingled from raccoon slobber and repeated, "I'm sorry."

Angeal was already exhausted. "It's okay. To be honest, we kind of expected you to do something like that."

There was a humorless chuckle from the twenty-two year old.

The oldest man continued to murmur things to Cloud, calming him down. Sephiroth began to massage the man's shoulders for him; Angeal stopped talking for a second to kiss a finger on one of the gentle hands. The blond in his room was relaxing, they could tell—his responses to Angeal's cautious questions became less clipped and quiet. Within just a few minutes Angeal had Cloud comfortably talking to them (or so they hoped).

"You're really..."

None of them really wanted to lie, but they couldn't tell the whole truth. Too many questions they didn't want to answer yet otherwise. "...Yeah, sort of. And yes, we can talk to you. Yes, you can feel us. We're...special I guess. You're not crazy. We don't want to hurt you."

That was reassuring. Throughout their whole chat a thousand questions had been bubbling up to the surface. Cloud bit his lip, but he couldn't hold them in anymore.

"How do you guys talk? How did you die? Oh my gosh, was that rude to ask? I'm sorry? Did you guys live here? Do you have names? How come you can touch me and I can feel you?—"

"Woah, calm down!" Cloud stopped, then laughed nervously a little. He swallowed again, then cautiously moved the things blocking his door away. He wiggled and kicked the mattress as far as his legs could extend, then carried the maybe broken chair and a few feet to the side. He almost opened the door, but decided not to and rested his back against it, Sebastian in his lap.

"I need to know," Cloud began, "that you won't do any of that anymore. I get we're not friends and you're all putting up with me because we're 'roommates,' but I won't let you hurt me again, or do anything to my house." He was firm. Moment of truth.

"We promise," Angeal reassured. "So long as you don't do anything to harm _us_."

Cloud smiled and nodded, forgetting they couldn't see him. The other four knew that Cloud only really attacked when provoked, though, (ignoring his not-so-little episode from earlier) so hopefully there wouldn't be anything to worry about.

The blond surprised them then; he said firmly, "We need rules if you're going to live here with me."

The Invisibles looked at each other. "Good idea," said Zack, "We agree."

Cloud, who had started kneeling again, sat on his rump and tapped his chin. What kind of rules were you supposed to set for... for ghosts? It felt weird, but he had to show these guys that they couldn't walk all over him.

"Um, I guess... stay out of my room unless it's life or death. Okay?" Cloud tried to put some force into his voice but it came out shaky.

"Deal," one of them said. Cloud closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. It was just so _hard_; he was talking tho his _ghosts _and this was so messed up, all of it.

"Clean up your own mess," he decided. "Don't steal my stuff." At this Sephiroth's lips twitched. "If you respect my privacy, I'll respect yours."

"Sounds fair," said Angeal, considering.

Genesis said suddenly, "We have to have rules too, if this is to be 'fair.' ...Anything got anything?"

Cloud waited nervously as they thought. He hesitantly offered, "Are there any places you don't want me to go?"

"Hm, how 'bout any room any of us is sleeping in." The time Cloud had intruded on their private time, screaming, was still fresh in their minds.

Innocently, Cloud replied, "Okay."

"If we think of more rules later we'll tell you. Oh, and..." Angeal chuckled, "You can't cook, Cloud."

"Why—why not?"

"You _breathe_ fires and accidents. You can eat with us instead; we'll cook."

The ghosts were inviting him to _dinner_. Sorta! Instead of further protesting, Cloud finally gave. "Alright. You win. I promise not to." Behind his back, his fingers were crossed. _Like hell I won't, _he began to scheme.

"It's for your own good," said the voice that had been talking to him the most. "I don't know how many fire extinguishers we have left."

Angeal was joking this whole time, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but Cloud gasped in horror, "That was you?" Ah, so he remembered his heroics. Dumb blond, throwing _paper_ on a hot burner like that...

"Hah, yeah. That was me."

Cloud squirmed, then stood. He reached for the doorknob, then froze and hastily patted himself down. He probably looked like a crazy person who had stuck his finger in an electrical socket and rolled around in plastic wrap. He combed his fingers through his hair, tugged his clothes into proper order a little, tossed Sebastian onto his bed so he wouldn't seem like a wuss, and then opened the door.

The hallway seemed empty.

The baseboard and wall opposite seemed exactly the same as always. There wasn't any shimmering, no curious shapes out of the corner of his eyes, nothing. Honestly, Cloud knew that, but still he had been expecting... _something_.

Despite the boy's best efforts, he still looked like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket and rolled around in plastic wrap, Genesis noted. Cloud's eyes were big and wary, a bit puffy, looking left and right.

"Hi!" Zack said enthusiastically.

Cloud's eyes snapped over to where the voice had come from. They were only a few feet away, almost directly to his right.

"You're the one who said 'boo,'" Cloud marveled.

"...Uh, yeah. Heh. Nice to meetcha."

His hand was grabbed by another, and Cloud's mouth fell open as he watched himself shake hands with an _invisible _ghost. _Ghost_. "Planet," Cloud whispered.

Someone else touched his shoulder gently, getting his attention, and then shook his hand too. "It's a pleasure," they said.

Cloud was introduced to the other two, hand completely dwarfed by the ghost who had calmed him. They were all different somehow, but one thing was the same—they were _strong_. Like, ow, his hand almost hurt.

"...Hi," Cloud said breathlessly afterwards, to them all.

"Hi," they chorused back.

For a minute or more the five stood, not quite sure what to say to each other. Then Zack said nervously, "I'd love to stay up and chat, guys, but I'm beat."

Genesis said immediately, a bit too fast, "Sleep! Good idea!"

Cloud turned around and peeked into his room. Totally trashed. It would take him all night. "Yeah..."

"Aw. Here, Cloudy—to show we really mean what we've been saying we'll help you clean your room up. It'll go a lot faster with five people, yeah?"

Cloud flashed wide eyes in who he had dubbed the Friendly Ghost's direction. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure."

By the footsteps Cloud could tell that Friendly walked into his room; the others followed (one with a sigh).

"Holy," muttered one. Cloud laughed nervously as he walked in, bumping into one of the ghost's backs. He backed off with a stuttered apology.

"It's fine," said the ghost, "Just an accident."

This ghost was so nice. He had calmed him down earlier, and aside from telling him he couldn't cook, Cloud liked him a lot. This guy reminded him of a friend he used to have, back in Midgar. A man named Bobby used to deliver his mail, and they'd always chat about things. Bobby was level-headed and strong. Cloud had once cried all over him after his kitty Button had died—Bobby had patted his back and said nice things to him, and even gave him somebody's letter to wipe his snot and slobber off with. Then he had never seen Bobby again. Cloud missed him. It was the perfect name for a ghost.

"I've got the dresser," said Bobby.

"I've got over here!" said Friendly.

"I'll clean the bathroom," said one ghost softly.

"I'll get... I dunno. All this shit," sighed the last. A shirt on the floor floated up and was folded.

Cloud himself stumbled to his bed. He crawled onto the box spring, sneaking amazed looks around at all the ghostly activity in his room, and peeked in the hole Bandit had come out of. How on Gaia...?

"Damn," came Friendly's voice. "You really messed up this chair—woah!" The chair by the door's wobbly leg snapped off completely, and it fell over with much too loud a thud. Friendly was probably sitting in it.

Genesis laughed at Zack and shot Sephiroth in the bathroom a sly glance. The man opened a cabinet under the sink and put something in there in his pocket. Sneaky, that one. And already breaking the rules they'd set. Genesis bent to pick up the next article of clothing on the ground, but stopped.

"If you think I'm touching your underwear, _boy_, you're sadly mistaken."

Cloud's cheeks flared in embarrassment as he got off the bed and hurried to the ghost in the middle of the room. "They're clean!" he gasped, falling to his knees and gathering everything he could see as fast as he could.

"So? They've still touched your—"

"Stop it," said the bathroom ghost. "Look what you're doing to the poor kid."

Cloud's eyes narrowed as he eyed both of them (he hoped). He wasn't sure how much he liked this 'boy' and 'kid' stuff. These two, he'd keep an eye on.

He and Bobby managed to put his bed back together, and by then, everything was mostly back to normal.

Sassy—he thought the name was fitting—had his clothes in almost perfect order. Everything was nice, and Cloud was immensely grateful. The whole cleanup had taken maybe twenty minutes.

"Thanks so much," he stressed as they all filed out. "That would've t— WAIT!"

They all stopped. Cloud pointed at the floating bottle of his Sephiroth Shampoo and barked, furious that one of them had violated his rule so soon, "That's mine!"

Genesis clapped a hand to his forehead and ignored Sephiroth, who had frozen.

"...You can see it?" he asked finally, taking the container out of his pocket. Things inside their bodies, like food, couldn't be seen, but things surrounded by invisible clothing could? It was interesting to think about, but Sephiroth... _really _wished he could have discovered this little fact on his own and not now, with Zack and Angeal laughing at him.

"Yes," Cloud snapped, grabbing it from him. "Duh." He glared as they all filed out and repeated, though now considerably less enthusiastic, "...Thanks."

Friendly answered for them. "No prob. I know we're not friends, but hopefully you know we're not enemies now."

Cloud's lips twitched, and then he smiled widely. "Yeah," he laughed, "Not enemies." Then he narrowed his eyes to the side, where the shampoo thief was.

The four Invisibles were struck by exactly how much _better_ it was, talking to Cloud and trying to be his friend rather than what they had been doing. It was a very good feeling, all of this. They probably should have talked to him much sooner.

They told the blond they'd talk to him in the morning. Angeal said something about breakfast. Then they left, giving both parties some well-deserved time alone.

"Aw, he's fun," Genesis cooed, pulling his shirt over his head as soon as he got into their room. "And Sephiroth, you're an idiot."

"...Sleep with one eye open, Genesis."

Zack flopped onto their bed and ignored them. "I'm exhausted."

"I think all of us are."

"Except for Seph. He's never tired."

"Sure I am," the man countered, curling up next to Zack like a cat. Zack kissed his temple, then started to wiggle.

"I didn't brush my teeth yet—lemme up for a sec?"

"No. Too bad." Sephiroth rolled until he was half on top of the younger man, keeping him on the bed.

Zack laughed and tried to push him off; when that didn't work he resigned himself to his fate and tried to get comfortable. Sephiroth shifted to accommodate him and when they were both comfy Sephiroth pressed his lips to the corner of Zack's mouth and went still.

The other two rolled their eyes and washed up. They returned to find Sephiroth out like a light, and Zack still awake—but barely—beneath him. He waved feebly at them.

"Goodnight," Genesis whispered, climbing into bed and kissing Zack's wiggling fingertips. "Tomorrow will be exciting, I bet; we need our rest."

Angeal said fondly, "Night you two." They all got comfortable, and Genesis turned off the light.

Across the house, Cloud tucked Sebastian in beside him and stared at the ceiling. He felt kind of dizzy. The day had started out so normally... and then Reno came, then...

His brain was tired of thinking about the ghosts too, it seemed, and Cloud slipped into a sound sleep, looking forward to the next day.

* * *

When Cloud fully woke up the next morning, he was halfway out the door in his boxers. He blinked, stopped and looked around, checking to make sure there wasn't any sort of... witchcraft or craziness going on. Finding none, he trooped back to his room and yawned, stretching until he had heard three satisfying pops from sleepy joints.

Then it hit him—what had dragged his half-asleep body out of bed.

Something smelled _wonderful_. Like, fucking delicious. Cloud stuck his head into the hallway again and took a big whiff. Fucking _bacon_!

Hunger always did make him have a pottymouth. He dressed quickly but took extra care to wear something halfway decent. His first impression with his ghosts had been pretty much terrible, but he could at least try to have a nice second one.

Cloud went downstairs nervously, slowing down at the top of the stairs and looking around. The house looked no different, really. Someone had opened the curtains downstairs. The sun was out. Someone else had turned on the heat—Nibelheim was proving to be pretty damn cold already.

He heard talking in the kitchen. A television was on. His ghosts were... clearly not hiding their presence anymore. Cloud continued downstairs and trotted to the kitchen, head turning this way and that warily. Planet, the remote was floating in the living room.

"Morning," he was greeted by a voice as he walked in. Bobby.

Now he was almost shy. "Hello."

Cloud tried not to seem too nosy, but he wiggled forward and eyed the food cooking. Mmm, fucking _baconnnn—_

"Here." Bobby waggled a piece in front of his face. Cloud froze, then recovered and took it with a thank you. "Now get out—I'm not done cooking. The others are watching TV, I think."

Three others. Now _definitely_ shy, Cloud moseyed over to the couches in front of the big television in the main living room. He didn't know where they were sitting—oh gosh, what if he _sat_ on one of them—

Friendly's chipper voice knocked him out of his worrying. "Good morning, Cloud!"

"H-Hi." Cloud smiled and hovered behind one of the couches, uncomfortable. The floating remote and Friendly were in the couch in front of him, and the two other couches perpendicular to that one seemed empty. Wait... there was a small stack of Oreos hovering a few feet above a cushion on the couch to the right.

"It's good to see you, Cloud," said the ghost eating the cookie. Cloud stuttered out "y-you too" and walked to the couch to the left of Friendly's.

"Wait-!"

It was too late. Cloud sat on something that definitely was _not_ the couch cushion and immediately sprang up, yelping, "Sorry!"

A snore was his only answer.

The other two laughed. "He fell asleep," Friendly said, quite unnecessarily. "Sit here!" He scooted over and patted—more like smacked—the cushion beside him. Cloud clearly saw where to sit and went to the spot, narrowly avoiding smacking his socked foot on the leg of the coffee table in between all the couches. He sat and did his best to relax, even though he could feel both awake ghosts' eyes on him.

"Sleep well?" An oreo was twisted, and the top cookie came off perfectly, with no cream stuck to it. Cloud had never been able to do that. That took practice.

"Yes, I did, thank you. You?"

"I slept well also." Munch, munch.

"You slept like a _log_. A heavy one."

"Hmph." Munch.

Cloud giggled quietly, not really getting what was going on, and looked at the television for a distraction. Some cartoon was on.

"I love this next part," Friendly said.

A cactuar was running down a long, desert road, giant clouds of dust near its legs. A tonberry was riding a rocket a good distance back, trying to catch up.

The cactuar squeaked twice and ran faster. The rocket and the tonberry crashed into a trap a chocobo had set up from earlier, and the cactuar let out a little noise of victory as it ran past the carnage.

"Ready!" Called Bobby a few minutes later. He could feel Friendly almost immediately vacate the couch, and even Sassy seemed to wake up.

"Mm, M'rnin', Clod," Sassy murmured, voice getting fainter as he moved towards the kitchen. Cloud's mouth twitched as he followed them all. New chapter in his life in Nibelheim, here he came.

The kitchen table was set, not the one in the dining room. There were five spaces, though, luckily, and Bobby called as he wandered in, "Sit here, Cloud." He picked up his plate and put it back down so Cloud would know where to sit.

It was so crazy. The kitchen seriously seemed empty. Except... a cup of orange juice was raised to someone's lips, and the cup tipped, then drained. He couldn't see it as it went into their mouth or anything—the ghost's bodies must have made everything inside them be invisible, too.

That was almost a scary thought. If he stuck his finger in one of their mouths (not that he _would), _would it just... end? Would he be able to see his bone and stuff? Ugh, gross.

Breakfast was interesting. The conversation was a little awkward, no one wanting to overstep their boundaries. Cloud was careful not to ask anything about the ghosts' pasts, even though he desperately wanted to. Something told him that he shouldn't. _Mako _was still fresh in his mind; Cloud still suspected his 'Hojo plus experiments equals invisible humans' theory was correct, but he didn't mention it. If these guys had to deal with his Great Uncle... he wasn't about to bring him up.

The Invisibles, on the other hand, knew how information-starved Cloud was getting. It wasn't like they could blame him. The poor kid didn't even know their names. How frustrating would it be to try to talk to people and not know their names? Genesis knew he'd go absolutely crazy. It wasn't that they didn't want Cloud knowing their names, but—but that was exactly it. Damn. There was always that chance that Cloud knew them, knew their names from when they were in SOLDIER. If he did, he'd obviously ask questions—questions that he and the others weren't ready to answer yet. It hadn't been that long, still, since Hojo had died and their torture and experimentation had come to an end.

Despite the somewhat awkwardness, breakfast progressed smoothly. It was different, talking _to_ Cloud instead of listening to him think out loud or interact with his friends. Different in a good way, probably. The kid was funny.

Cloud was thrilled to talk to his ghosts. His questions were still burning and he asked one that probably wouldn't make anyone too upset, "Can you four see each other?" In the Casper movies, they could... maybe...

"Yeah," answered Friendly through a mouthful of food. "We don't even see each other as translucent or anything."

"I'm the best looking," said the ghost to his left in a stoic voice. He took a bite of yet another cookie. The others laughed at that, but Cloud frowned in thought. He had finally came up with a final name.

"Shut up," Friendly told Cookie jokingly. Cookie snorted and brought a forkful of eggs to his mouth.

After breakfast Cloud did the dishes with Sassy, not wanting to seem like he was a freeloader or anything. They had a dishwasher (his old apartment in Midgar hadn't and Cloud still preferred to do dishes by hand) and the ghost told him how to use it. They scraped off the plates and cleaned off the table, chatting a little. Cloud couldn't say that he disliked any of his ghosts; they were good guys.

He retreated to his room when he was done, mostly to give himself a breather. He did, however, do the final touches on his room. The chair that had been broken was kind of hopeless, without wood glue or something like that; Cloud leant it against the wall and hoped he wouldn't forget and try to sit on it sometime. He made his bed, patted it down just in case to make sure there wasn't any suspicious hiding raccoons, and thought about what else to do.

Around three that afternoon he had to leave for a delivery to a neighboring town. Until then...what? Play with his new friends? The thought was both exciting and incredibly daunting. Cloud felt out of his league, involved in things that were too big for him. Ghosts, seriously? _Seriously? _He wanted Aerith—she always knew what to do in situations like these.

Cloud sighed and checked his phone—no texts or missed calls. Hmm. He shrugged and left his room, heading towards the library. Boring as all get out there but it was quiet and calm. That was good.

The titles in Hojo's library seemed, if it was possible, even more boring than they had the last time he had been there. Cloud nearly groaned as he stood on tiptoes to examine a shelf high up. He knew that he wouldn't be knocked off a ladder again if he tried to go up, but after what had happened last time Cloud really didn't want to touch that thing with a ten foot pole. Instead he craned his neck back as he walked around, looking for something that wasn't absolute shit.

"Try this one."

Cloud yelped loudly and jumped, hands flying to his mouth as he spun around in a panic. A floating book was before him.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to startle you." Cookie.

"New rule!" Cloud squeaked, taking the book, "Don't sneak up on me. Always let me know you're there."

Sephiroth could have rolled his eyes. He hasn't _snuck up _on the guy. And, if it was just him, he could say that Cloud was taking to this "rule" business a bit too well. "Alright. I'll make sure to do that. Sorry."

"It's okay," Cloud said shakily. He turned the book over and peered at the cover. _The Day the Bodies Fell. _The back cover was ranting reviews about how it was "a true marvel—unlike all other books of the genre!" Another review said it was one of the best books about the _Battle of Mideel_ to date. Ohhhh, boring.

"It's excellent," Cookie offered.

"Heh... thanks," Cloud said, trying to seem authentic. He tucked it under his arm and grinned.

"Hm." Cookie wandered off deeper into the library.

Cloud got out of dodge and went to his room again, putting the book on top of his dresser but knowing he'd never, ever, look at it.

The book got him thinking, though. The Battle of Mideel... he had learned about it, back in high school. Lots of men had died. Maybe...? Maybe Cookie had died in that battle, and that was why he found it so interesting. _Or maybe he's just a history buff, _his more rational side quipped.

So many fucking questions. No answers as of yet. He wouldn't give up.

After half an hour or so it became apparent that _Mako_ wasn't going to keep his interest. Cloud was maybe halfway through the book now, and folded the page he was on and hid it under his bed again. Then he wandered downstairs.

There as so much _life _in the house now. He could hear feel the vibrations in the floor—someone was in the basement playing music really loudly, probably lifting weights. Someone else was in the home theater—he could feel the vibrations from that too when he placed his hand on the wall that led to it.

"Hey Spiky."

Cloud jumped. Immediately he said, "Don't _do _that!"

"Huh? Do what?"

"Sneak up on me. It's a new rule."

"...Oh. Sorry, man. But I'm bored. Wanna do something?"

If he had to play a game with one of them, Friendly was probably the one he'd pick. "What did you have in mind?"

"Dunno."

They sat, brainstorming and trying to remember what kinds of board games were in a cabinet in the basement. Eventually Friendly asked, "Wanna play hide and seek?"

Cloud's was expressionless. "...You must think I'm some sort of idiot, don't you."

"What?"

Cloud's lips pursed in annoyance. "You're invisible. How are we supposed to play hide and seek?"

Zack nearly busted a gut laughing, and Genesis had heard on his way back from getting a snack in the kitchen. "Moron," he called, snickering. Cloud's stopped looking annoyed and then laughed quietly along with them.

They ended up playing checkers and chess (at which they were both absolutely terrible) for over an hour, until Cloud regretfully had to leave. He said goodbye to all the ghosts on the first floor and ran out, tugging on a warm hat as he did.

Outside, Cloud took a deep breath of the chilly air and felt a thousand times better. The atmosphere inside the house wasn't stifling, exactly, but it was weird and he wasn't used to it and they were all nice, but...

Cloud paused as he walked down the porch steps. The grass outside was torn up a little in one spot. With a jolt, Cloud remembered Reno. Reno had been _chucked out_ of his house by the ghosts—where was he now? He looked around, almost expecting to see his ex-boyfriend on the grounds somewhere, but nothing.

_Reno... _Cloud missed him, he did, but yesterday he had realized that they seriously were over. Reno was charming and wonderful and he had almost given in and forgave him, but this was his new life now, in Nibelheim. He was kind of a different person, and this Cloud didn't have anything to do with that Reno. He shook his head and got on Fenrir. With luck, this ride would clear his head a little.

Inside, Genesis flopped onto his stomach and sighed. Angeal echoed him.

"Is he gone?" the readhead asked weakly.

"Yeah," Zack confirmed. "Just saw him ride away."

The Invisibles sagged. Sephiroth was still in the library so he couldn't join in, but everyone was sure he was just as stressed as they were. This was hard work. Keeping secrets wasn't really any of their specialties—they weren't Turks. They couldn't very well build a good friendship with Cloud if it was founded on lies and mistrust, but... they had to.

"We need to talk about this," Zack said finally, serious.

Genesis nodded and sat up straight, resting his feet on the coffee table. Angeal retrieved Sephiroth, and when all were comfortable they stared at each other.

"He's getting suspicious," Angeal started. "Can't blame him."

"No, we can't. We can't tell him what he wants to know yet, though."

"Why not?" Zack crossed his arms behind his head and looked at Sephiroth, genuinely curious. "I mean, I get that we don't have to tell him everything about Hojo and all, but not even our names?"

Sephiroth frowned. "He'd recognize my name, if not one of yours. Trust me. He probably doesn't truly believe the 'ghost' thing as it is even now." The General was having trouble putting his words together. There was that fear, the fear that they'd have to reveal what had happened. That was between the four of them—they had suffered together, and theirs was an exclusive club. But it was tough to keep the marshmallow boy out; he was just that—a marshmallow boy that you couldn't ignore, especially now that they were _talking _to him. For real, talking, speaking. _To him._

"Sooo, none of us want to tell him anything at all, but none of us want to _not _tell him anything at all?"

Zack shrugged. "I guess."

"If he asks us directly, I'm going to answer him," Genesis decided. "Relax, not about anything too personal. But if he doesn't ask, I'm not going to say anything. Sound fair?"

No one could really find fault with that.

"Good!" Genesis stood, pleased, and slapped his thighs. "Alright—let's go out to the hot tub. I haven't been in that thing in ages."

When Cloud came home later, all five watched a movie in front of the huge screen in the theater. Sharing popcorn with these guys and yelling at the same scary parts Sassy did made Cloud feel a little bit more welcome.

Life was weird, but life was good.

* * *

For a week or more, Cloud's new, shaky existence continued. He learned a lot about his new 'friends' in that time, and they learned a lot about him. Sometimes Cloud forgot that it was _these _ghosts who had been with him ever since he had come to Nibelheim. He was going to announce his favorite food once when Sassy asked him, but Bobby said it for him, "Kimchi, right?"

"How do you know that!"

"You've eaten it a lot?"

That made him feel stupid. "Oh."

Besides the occasional slip-up, though, things went smoothly. Cloud had once made Cookie wear a ribbon with a bell on it around his wrist (since it was always Cookie who managed to frighten him in some way or another) but the bell's chiming ended up being creepier than Cookie himself so Cloud made him take it off. He and Friendly figured out how to play chess after Bobby told them about it, and Cloud had managed to beat the ghost six out of ten times. He was a worthy opponent, though.

But, Cloud still got the feeling that they were hiding something from him. Or... not so much hiding, it was just that they left so much out and gave such vague answers. At first Cloud had been understanding—there was probably a lot that a ghost wouldn't want to tell an alive human—but now it was just getting annoying. He still had no name, or age, or much of _anything _from these guys, and he had ended up spilling his whole life story after Sassy gave him too many energy drinks one night.

Cloud felt terribly vulnerable... and almost used.

That's why at dinner one night, he slammed his palm down next to his plate, hard.

"Look," he said in a deadly voice, interrupting Bobby and Friendly's conversation. "I get you don't want to tell me stuff. To be honest, I don't even wanna know. But you can't expect me to go on with absolutely _nothing_ here. I'm sick of calling you the stupid nicknames I've come up with for each of you in my head—I want your names or something you want me to call you."

When he got no answer and the kitchen went very still, he pressed on, bottom lip stuck out in pure defiance. "If you don't give me something in _thirty seconds_, I'm going to call you Bubbles, Moonbeam, Sparkles and Juniper and there's _nothing _you can do to stop me."

More silence. Then, Sassy let out a terribly inelegant snort and all four ghosts started laughing.

Cloud scowled, but it was really more like a pout. "I'm serious! Gah! Fuck you guys!"

Someone sobered, and the others did quickly. Cloud squirmed, aware they were communicating somehow. Then Friendly said slowly, "Well... My name's Zack. Uh, Zack Fair."

"Next."

"Jeez, you're demanding," said Sassy. "I'm Genesis Rhapsodos. I'd say I'm pleased to make your acquaintance but... it is maybe not so much a pleasure after all..."

Cloud scrunched up his nose at him, knowing (or at least hoping) he was joking, and said again, "Next."

Bobby let out a short, uneasy sigh. "My name is Angeal Hewley."

"Next!"

Cookie was quiet. Bob-_Angeal_ nudged him, and he said finally, "My name is Sephiroth."

_Sephiroth? _"Uh. Wait, what?"

Cookie didn't say anything else, and Cloud realized he had heard correctly. His brain skid to a stop as he tried to process it.

"Wait, General Sephiroth of SOLDIER, Sephiroth?"

"...The one and the same."

"Oh." Cloud blinked. "_Oh_. Okay."

The Invisibles watched him warily. Cloud's mouth scrunched up and his eyes lowered, and he brought a piece of broccoli to his mouth. He frowned and pushed his food around on his plate a little. Zack stubbornly started a conversation with Genesis then, not liking the almost creepy, unusual silence that had fallen over Cloud. The blond stood up about ten minutes later and mumbled, "I'm gonna go lie down. I don't feel too well."

They watched him go. Angeal patted Sephiroth's shoulder, not minding when the man immediately shrugged it off.

Cloud entered his room and sat on the edge of his bed, sort of staring at the floor.

He was so stupid. Running away like that, like an idiot. But... but Sephiroth. _Sephiroth_. Seriously? No wonder he had tried to steal his shampoo!

He had called Sephiroth _Cookie_. Cloud could have died.

There was a still-unopened box next to the wall in the corner, and Cloud walked over to it, crouching and opening the top. Inside was a collection of newspaper clippings, letters from friends and the like. Halfway down the stack was what he was looking for. Carefully grabbing it and going back to his bed, Cloud spread it out on the comforter.

The title read, _General and three SOLDIERs KIDNAPPED! _

As a sixteen year old, Cloud had read this and cried his little heart out. Sephiroth had been his whole reason for joining the army, the gleaming star of the military and iconic _strength_ of Shin-Ra. Cloud read the article again, stopping with wide eyes when he read '_The other three kidnapped were Commanders and First Classes Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos, and First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair._

Oh, shit.

Cloud gasped when he realized what this meant. He grabbed _Mako _from underneath his bed and stared at the author's name.

It hurt to know that his hero had done that stuff to him, a little. But as Cloud began to almost put the puzzle together, he could sort of sympathize. These four had been here, with _Hojo_. Hojo used to work for Shin-Ra.

It was possible, wasn't it? Wasn't it? Maybe?

They, heroes, here, with him, _downstairs_.

Cloud threw _Mako _as hard as he could at the wall and carefully placed the article back in the box. Then he took a deep breath, preparing to go back downstairs and apologize for his behavior. It was no big deal, right? So, his General Sephiroth and what would have been his Commanding Officers were his 'ghosts.' So what? So _what_?

When had his life become even _more _fucked up?


	19. Retaliation

**Tobi: To (hopefully) soothe any doubts, IM is full steam ahead! Chapters are being planned out and things are underway. There won't be any more year-long waits again; that was ridiculous, and I'm grateful for each and every one of you who stuck with the story and are reading my babble right now. Thanks, Shinigami-Chan, Momonster, wanderingmusician, Icsifil and Crayonbox for reviews 1650 through 1850. Thank you so much everybody. CM and I can't thank you guys enough for all the continued interest and support.**

**CM: Please direct all complaints to Tobi. Blame her.**

**Tobi: Coughhh. /sweatdrop. Enjoy this chapter, it has a lot of action and a lot of Cloud being a weirdo. We all love it. ;)**

* * *

The entire atmosphere had changed. Gone were the screams, the shouts, and the cries. Gone, too, was the negativity that was almost a tangible thing, seeping through the cracks in the floors and threatening to choke him here, in his resting place.

It was...curious. Everything felt calmer. There was still tension, still fear—yes, still much of that—but not nearly as intense as before. What had happened? What was going on? It was interesting, and he was interested.

But it wasn't any of his business. The dealings of those above him were trivial and would pass, eventually. He would be here forever; he wouldn't age. Everything would pass. Those who had sinned as he had no place in the world of the living, not any longer. No more.

His fingertips twitched, reaching for his gun lying across his chest. It was comforting, but he had to let it go. _Let it go_. And go back to sleep, to rest, because he couldn't afford to become invested in this world. Not again.

* * *

Cloud slept badly. This was unsurprising; he honestly hadn't expected any better. He had stayed up late into the night, pouring over his clipouts and memorabilia of Sephiroth, General Sephiroth, and SOLDIER, and—

—What was _that?_

Blue eyes flew open and dazedly focused on the big, warm thing on his chest. Cloud blinked a few times, then cautiously rubbed his eye crud away. Then he saw, quite clearly, the raccoon asleep on top of him.

It was Bandit. _Again. _He had seen the raccoon here and there, and a few times he had woken up to see the little guy resting on his bed or close nearby.

This time Bandit was curled up with his little humanlike paws beside his face. He looked harmless. Cloud almost threw the animal off. He decided against it, though; Bandit wasn't hurting anyone, and, to be honest, the little guy was pretty cute when he wasn't screaming and hissing. The blond twisted his mouth but relaxed, closing his eyes. That wasn't just it. He didn't have the energy to be running around this early in the morning. He didn't want to cause a stir. He wanted to be quiet, up here in his room, where it was safe, and where he was alone. Bandit could stay.

Today would be tricky. Last night he knew he should have gone downstairs and said something to his ghosts, but he hadn't. He couldn't. He was confused, hurt, excited and angry, even, and—

Again Bandit interrupted his thoughts. The raccoon shuffled up a little and clamped his little mouth tight around Cloud's earlobe. There were no teeth, so it didn't hurt, but it was a very odd feeling. Hadn't he done that before?

"Uhh," Cloud whispered hesitantly as Bandit's right front paw landed on the tip of his chin. No response. Bandit went back to sleep, and Cloud sighed, petting the animal's back. It was like having a furry, affectionate scarf.

Anyway... he didn't know what to do. This situation was a doozy. Calling Aerith might have been a good idea. Did he really want to bother the poor girl with this, though?

This was his battle.

He had been at war with these guys. These—gulp—SOLDIERs. He had bled and been bruised and had fought back with everything he had, with rolling pins and paintballs and flyswatters and pillows. This was nothing. Talking to them? Getting to know them, even though he _knew_ they were keeping secrets from him? Even though he knew, now, who they were? That they were his _heroes_?

This was nothing compared to that. He could do it. He had done a lot more, that was for sure.

After a time Cloud knew he had to get up. He whispered _sorry_ to his raccoon companion before gently untangling himself. The little guy didn't move. Cloud gave a soft smile and drew the blankets up higher, covering Bandit's lower half with them.

He got dressed, face grim with determination. He wasn't sure how they'd take it. What was he supposed to even say? 'Nice to meet you Sirs, let's play scrabble?' No. Cloud may not have been very smart, but he was no idiot, despite what Cid said. His ghosts were not ghosts. He just knew it. After reading _Mako_, that sick book written by Hojo, he was sure of it. Almost positive. Did they really think he'd believe they were the ghosts of the kidnapped SOLDIERs? Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't.

Right now he couldn't argue with them about it. The fine line they were all walking could disappear at any time. Cloud really didn't want to see Sebastian hanging from his ceiling fan ever again. For now he would be civil. He'd be polite, accepting, and he wouldn't outwardly question what they were telling him.

So, it was Sephiroth. So, it was two Commanders and a First. So? So? Nothing. Nothing would change. Not now, anyway.

Cloud left his room, shutting the door with a soft click. He paused, then opened it again in case Bandit wanted out later. The house was quiet. He didn't hear any voices or the television. Cloud looked around as he made his way through the second floor. Butterflies flitted around in his stomach; he felt sick.

He pressed on. The banister of the left main staircase was chilly; the whole mansion was. (Cloud alternated which staircase he went down each morning. He'd hate to see one be perfect while the other was all run down from footsteps. That would look silly.)

He opened the front door and got his mail. It was cold—fall was in full swing. It was almost winter, and Cloud was dreading it. Midgar was pretty warm year-round. He'd heard about the snowstorms out in the Nibel mountains. The trees were gorgeous this time of year, though. He could see mountain after mountain here, and Cloud spent a minute by his front door, just looking out. Now calm, he went back inside, mail in hand.

There was a floating spatula by the stove, and it was scrambling some eggs. Toast shot out of the toaster, stopped in midair, and drifted over to a small stack sitting on a plate. Cloud swallowed. "G-Good morning," he said softly as he entered the kitchen. The spatula didn't pause. The ghost must have known he was there. It was so strange. It could have been watching him, and he would have no idea.

"Good morning to you as well," came a voice.

Cloud bit his lip, trying to match the voice to the names he had heard the previous night. "Um... Angeal?" he asked hesitantly, feeling awkward.

The voice responded, a tad warmer, "Yes. Good memory. How did you sleep?"

Bobby, then. He always made breakfast. Cloud walked in a little more, relieved. "Okay. I didn't fall asleep until really late."

Angeal didn't comment on exactly _why_ Cloud had trouble falling asleep, and neither did he. He stuck his head in the fridge, looking for orange juice and asked, "Where are the, um, others?"

"Zack is in the basement, and Genesis and Sephiroth are out back. I'm not sure what they're doing though."

It was jarring, hearing all those names. Cloud poured himself a glass. "Ah—thanks."

He didn't know what to say. Bo—Angeal was nice, but... what? What?

Cloud inched out of the kitchen, and Angeal called after him as he left. "I'll get you when breakfast is ready."

"Thank you," Cloud said back, giving a jerky little bow as he did so. He grimaced, turned and fled. There wasn't much else for him to do, so Cloud went down to the basement. Out of all of them, Frien—Zack was the one he liked best at this point. He wasn't as intimidating.

Music was blaring, and the pull-down bar was moving up and down by itself. Except not, right? Right.

Cloud descended the stairs. The workout equipment down here was intense. There was a big, tall metal contraption that looked like a jungle gym, except it was laden with different stacks of black, metal weights that were used for a variety of stations. There was a spot to work on your calf muscles, lats, biceps, triceps, abdominals—it had it all. There were a bunch of single weights on a rack by the wall, and a big green exercise ball in the corner. Cloud's eyes instantly zeroed in on the bookcase where he had moved a book and been transported to the coffin room. He shivered, thinking about the coffin with his name on it. The bar stopped moving and Zack panted, sounding out of breath, "Hey."

"Hey," Cloud answered, fidgeting and curling his fingers around his glass. Zack went back to lifting, and Cloud flopped down on a small loveseat against the wall with the bookcase.

"What's—up?" Grunt, grunt, up, down.

"Uh, not much. Just chilling until breakfast is ready. How long have you been—holy shit!" Cloud's eyes bugged out and and he pointed at Zack, or where he was pretty sure Zack was, sitting on a small padded surface beneath the pull-down bar.

"Huh?"

Cloud set his glass on a table and scurried over. Zack was lifting an insane amount of weight...

"Seven hundred and thirty pounds?" Cloud gasped, looking at the huge stack of weights on the pulley the bar Zack was using was connected to. That _had _to be custom-made; he didn't think you could buy these personal gym things with quite _that_ much weight. And now that he looked, all the stations had comparable weights connected to them.

"Heh," Zack chuckled, "Yeah. We're—er, we were—SOLDIERs. Super strength, you know?"

"Shit," Cloud said, stupefied.

Zack laughed and the bar raised to the top, maybe eight feet in the air, resting underneath the metal frame keeping it there. "You try."

Cloud looked at the bar, then at where he thought Zack was standing. "Really?"

"Go for it."

If he was being presented with an opportunity to bond with one of his ghosts, he'd go for it. He was grateful; talking with Friendl—_Zack_ wasn't hard at all. He stood with each leg on either side of the padded seat. He reached up, gripped the bar and pulled down. Nothing. Zack snickered.

"Shut up," Cloud bickered and scrunched his face up, pulling down with all his might. Still nothing. He lifted his feet and dangled in the air, pouting. Zack laughed loudly when Cloud wrapped both legs around the bar and hung from it upside-down like a sloth.

"How are you so strong?" Cloud huffed as all the blood in his body rushed to his head.

He heard soft footsteps on the thick carpet. "Shin-Ra secret," Zack teased, right by him. Cloud flailed as he began to move downwards, and realized Zack was easily moving the bar up and down—with him on it, even!

"Not fair," Cloud muttered, dropping to his feet and scuttling back to his seat.

Zack moved on to a new exercise. "I'll—have you—lifting two hundred—in no time!" he puffed in between reps.

Cloud smiled. There really wasn't any awkwardness here. Friendly was given his name for a reason. Cloud stayed there as Zack worked out for a short while. It was nuts—he doubted he'd ever get used to the invisible thing. They chatted a little about Nibelheim and the mansion, nothing too touchy.

This was going better than expected.

Zack stood up after a time and said, "C'mon."

"Huh?"

"Angeal just called us."

"Oh." Cloud stood. "I didn't hear him at all."

"Well of course not," Zack said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He bounded up the stairs, full of energy even after all that lifting. Cloud frowned and followed at a slower pace, suddenly nervous again. The other two ghosts were upstairs... the two that frightened him the most, to be honest. Genesis... and Sephiroth.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and hesitated before entering the kitchen. They were all sitting at the small table (Cloud realized they didn't often use the long table in the dining room, and probably for good reason). There was a seat open, and Cloud slid into it, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

"Good morning," he said while looking down at his food, because there was nothing else to look at.

After a pause in conversation Zack said from across the table, "Hey Cloud." Cloud flashed a brief, nervous smile in what was hopefully Zack's direction and picked up his fork.

"What were you two doing outside?" Angeal asked.

From his left, "I adjusted the temperature of the hot tub. Sephiroth vanished into the woods."

"A monster got far too close," Sephiroth said quietly. Cloud gulped; he had it figured that Genesis sat to his left, Sephiroth to his right, Angeal across from him, and Zack between Angeal and Genesis.

"A strong one?" Zack.

Sephiroth raised a forkful of egg to his mouth and Cloud watched, fascinated, as the small poof of yellow abruptly disappeared. "It was very low leveled. Still..." he paused, and Cloud got the feeling he had just been glanced at, and that they were silently communicating. "I felt I should get rid of it, just in case."

Bobby—er, Angeal—said, "Good thinking. Thank you."

"It was nothing."

The table then fell silent, except for the sounds of silverware on plates. Cloud swallowed a bite of toast and decided to go for it. "Hey." Then came silence, but he was sure he had everyone's attention. He sat straighter in his chair, not sure where to look.

"I'm sorry for..." he stopped—he hadn't thought this out. "I'm sorry for being so weird last night. I shouldn't have just left like that. It doesn't matter to me who you are—uh, were." He cast his gaze around the table, hoping he was managing to look them in the eye. He had to make them understand. "I'm glad I was finally, uh, introduced to you all. I'm... I'm Cloud Strife. But—but you knew that." He cringed a little and ducked his head, shoveling food into his mouth.

There was a soft touch to his arm, and Cloud turned to Genesis. "We are the ones who should be apologizing. We should have told you much earlier." Something in the ghost's tone was much more somber than the situation called for. They were apologizing for a lot more than the name thing.

"I... yeah. It's okay."

"It's not," Genesis said, sounding exasperated, "but that's good enough for now." Cloud didn't know how to respond and said nothing, quietly chewing a triangle of toast.

Conversation tentatively resumed. They started talking about everyone's favorite seasons, which was the first thing Zack could think of. Angeal said he preferred spring because he liked to garden. Genesis said fall, because he found the trees beautiful at that time of year.

"What about you, Cloudy?"

Cloud lightly blushed into his plate. "Um, winter. I always thought Midgar was gross during the summer. Too hot. And it never was too cold in the winter there."

"Winter here is cool," Zack answered. "Gongaga never got any snow. All it does is snow here though."

"Do you guys get bad blizzards and stuff?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Hm. Maybe I should change my favorite season to fall..."

"Good plan." Genesis clapped him on the shoulder. Cloud, not expecting it, jumped a little. He smiled sheepishly in the ghost's direction.

This... wasn't so bad.

Cloud asked them questions about Nibelheim. Apparently many of the residents disliked Shin-Ra because of the mako reactor not too far away. He felt very snooty about that for a second, since he was _related_ to the President and all, but he stopped to think about it. He couldn't really blame them. Shin-Ra did an awful lot of shit in the name of clean, usable energy.

When everyone was finished eating Sephiroth shooed everyone out, insisting it was his turn to do the dishes. Cloud watched the floating plates by the sink for a moment before leaving. General Sephiroth cleaning bacon grease off Cloud Strife's plate, huh? It would take a while for him to wrap his head around this.

The mansion he inherited from Uncle Hojo was inhabited by the ghosts of Zack Fair, Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley and Sephiroth. They were no longer nameless forces but friendly men. He didn't totally trust them yet, but something had changed. Hopefully for the better.

What to do now? That question applied to both him right now, awkwardly standing in the entranceway to the kitchen and probably creeping Sephiroth out, and to a whole lot more.

He had solved his mystery. Mostly. He knew who they were now, and how many there were. There wouldn't be a need for another war, another session with Aerith and the Ouija board—nothing like that. It was all very anticlimactic.

If he thought about it, though, that wasn't the case at all. There was a whole lot to do. He still had to solve the newer mystery about Hojo and experimentation and whatnot. Plus, he still had to do what he originally came to Nibelheim to do—relax, chill out, get away from Midgar in both body and mind. A better question was 'What to do _first_?'

_Clean_, Cloud decided. He finally strolled away, not quite sure if he felt Sephiroth's eyes on him or not and wandered into the hardly-used dining room. The house was a mess, and cleaning had always helped him think.

He found some chemical cleaner and a rag and set to cleaning up the house. It wasn't so bad. Most of it was his random stuff lying around; the ghosts seemed pretty neat (not to mention unwilling to clean up his messes). Cloud scrubbed and dusted and organized, and as he did he thought about his time as an almost-maybe-Shin-Ra employee, back when he thought Sephiroth was 'the shit' and his parents were still alive. As he did so, he heard Angeal talking to Zack a few rooms over, and he heard the clacking of silverware in the kitchen.

A lot had changed since way back then, heh.

Cloud, super cleaning machine that he was, rapidly moved from room to room. He trotted into a small parlor with a few dainty-looking chairs, a couch that looked untouched, a coffee table with a tea set on top and a television, which was on. Not thinking, Cloud walked by, pressing the power button as he did so. He crawled under the small glass table, reaching for a muddy pair of sneakers of his lying underneath.

"...Ah, I was watching that."

"Ow!" Cloud cracked his head against the underside of the table and scooted backwards, squinting at the couch. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—ow—" His wrist was given a surprisingly strong tug and Cloud found himself sitting on the couch and fingers feeling the back of his head.

"Are you okay?" Genesis sounded alarmed.

"...Fine," Cloud murmured, embarrassed. He batted Genesis' fingers away. "Sorry for turning it off, that was stupid of me."

There was a long moment where Genesis didn't speak, and then he grunted, "Hnn. It's fine. Sit down."

Cloud was already sitting, but he didn't point that out. He nervously edged further onto the cushion, rubbing his skull. Ouch, that was a real doozy of a hit.

Genesis turned the TV back on with the remote. It was a documentary about Banoran apples or something.

"So, Cloud," said the ghost. Cloud frowned, staring blankly at the opposite wall. It was strange, seeming like you were the only one in the room, and yet you weren't. There was a ghost right next to him.

Cloud asked, squirming, "So what?" Genesis made him feel uncomfortable, not at all like Zack. He couldn't pinpoint why.

"So," he repeated, pausing afterwards. Cloud's eyes narrowed, and he continued. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"About what?"

"You tell me. Anything."

"I'm thinking you ask cryptic questions," Cloud muttered. Genesis laughed, a deep, quiet chuckle, and Cloud scowled. "I guess... I'm glad things seem to be working out, uh, pretty okay."

"Hmm. So am I."

That's all Genesis had to say, apparently. Cloud shook his head and tried to learn something about the apple industry.

Cloud asked some time later, "Where's Banora?"

Genesis's voice was thoughtful. "It's not far from Mideel. It's my hometown. Angeal's too."

"It's a pretty place."

"Thank you. That's my parents' farm right there. This was filmed a while ago; we've grown since then."

His ghosts—if he could even call them that—had pasts, hometowns, families, friends... Cloud was curious. He wanted to know, but that could wait. He didn't have to know now.

His immediate craving for information was satisfied. Genesis told him what Banora was like and how popular dumbapples were around the world. He even went into great detail about the process by which you got apple juice, applesauce, apple pie and things like that. Out of politeness Cloud let Genesis go, but honestly he wasn't such a big apple fan. It would be his secret.

"Do you miss Banora?"

"Sometimes, a bit. Largely, no—Angeal and I were so excited to leave and come to Midgar for SOLDIER."

Cloud sensed that was all he was going to get out of the ghost and stood up. "Thanks for talking to me. I'm going to go grocery shopping. Do you want anything?"

"No thank you," came the soft response. Cloud frowned, grabbed his sneakers and left.

"Uh—hey!" Cloud called from the bottom of one of the two main staircases—hopefully anyone downstairs or upstairs could hear him, wherever they were. "I'm going shopping! Does anyone want any food?"

"No!" Zack sounded very far away. He might have been in the basement again.

Angeal said from his left, probably exiting the library, "One minute Cloud." The blond nodded, rocking on his heels as he waited for Angeal to write a small list down. He watched the pen move, fascinated.

"Here." The ghost handed him the list which Cloud pocketed. "Thanks. We'll give you Gil when you get back; you don't have to pay for us."

"It's fine. Tseng pays for food and my bills and stuff."

"...In that case, never mind."

Cloud grinned, lifting a hand to wave goodbye. "See you soon."

Fenrir was eager to see him. Cloud straddled the bike, running his hands across the glittering metal. "Hey, you big boy," he crooned, whispering to Fenrir's handlebars, "Happy to see Daddy?" Fenrir's engine was extra loud as Cloud took off down the path. He was a motorcycle-obsessed freak, but darn, it felt good.

The people of Nibelheim who were out and about looked his way as he thundered into town. He waved hello to Helga and Olga who were mailing something at the collection bins outside the post office. They waved back and Cloud got off Fenrir in the dingy parking lot which a smile. Nibelheim was a cute town, even if most of the people sort of sucked—like that guy over there, scowling at Cloud's skinny jeans and bright hair. What_ever_.

He grabbed essential stuff like bread, milk, eggs and sour gummy worms, then pulled Angeal's list out of his pocket. He didn't know people even _made_ ground chocobo. He found it though and added it to his cart. He decided not to ask Angeal what was for dinner from now on. He grabbed a few apples for Genesis; hopefully he'd like them even if they weren't dumbapples.

The old lady behind the counter seemed charmed by him and gave him the store's club discount even though he wasn't a member. Of course, it didn't matter, because Tseng was paying—but it was a nice gesture that Cloud appreciated.

Somehow all the bags managed to fit in Fenrir's many compartments (Firion once joked that Cloud could fit a whole bunch of his swords in there). Cloud got on the bike but stopped. There were a few girls a few blocks away outside the library selling Chocobo Scout cookies. He couldn't resist. It was for a good cause, he rationalized, plus Cookie—Sephiroth—would thank him.

He headed their way, looking through his pockets for some actual cash. In his distraction he missed the figure hidden in the alley he passed by—in a matter of seconds a hand clapped over Cloud's mouth and he was roughly pulled away from the main road.

"Mmph!" Cloud thrashed, panicked, but stopped when a familiar voice hissed, "Cloud! Stop!"

Reno had him restrained, but gently, and when Cloud calmed down he cautiously let go. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Cloud snapped, shaken. "Reno-"

"What's in that house Cloud?" Reno's face was deadly serious. "You're in danger."

"I'm _fine_," he repeated. He backed up but Reno grabbed his waist and kept him still.

"Please, Cloud." Reno sounded tired. "Listen to me. I can't let you go back there. It could be a monster for all you know!"

"_Reno!_" Cloud shouted, exasperated. "You listen to _me! _There's nothing bad in that house. Now leave me alone!" He kneed Reno in the gut, surprising even himself and bolted back for Fenrir, Chocobo Scout cookies forgotten.

He gunned it out of town—it was like Fenrir felt his panic too. It hurt so bad seeing Reno. Why was he still in town? What did he _want_?

He drove off his driveway and into the grass so he could park Fenrir behind the mansion. The bike would be safer back here. Cloud had a feeling he'd be seeing more of Reno. Cloud grabbed as many bags as he could and darted around the front of the house. He barged in and ran to the kitchen, pale and wide-eyed.

"Cloud? What happened?"

The blond ignored whoever had spoken and ran back out of the house and to Fenrir again. "Thanks buddy," he whispered, patting the seat and squeezing the right handlebar for good luck. He hefted what was left and sprinted back to the front door. The whole place seemed sinister, like the long driveway to his house was going to suddenly burst into flames. He half-carried, half-dragged the food inside, locked the door, then staggered into the kitchen. He dropped the bags and pitched forward, landing on the tile on his belly, trying to breathe. It crossed his mind that the ghosts were probably confused and thinking he was a weirdo. He just needed a minute.

Someone rolled him onto his back and patted his cheeks. "Cloud! Talk to me."

"No," Cloud huffed, scowling when he felt hands pat down his heaving chest.

"He's not hurt," Zack addressed the others. "What happened Cloud?"

Cloud finally got over his dramatic episode and sat up. "Reno got me," he panted. "I got away and ran back."

Sephiroth began to put the food away with a sigh. "What did he want?"

"He asked me what was in the house... and said he wouldn't let me come back here because I'm in danger." No one spoke, and Cloud laughed a little, mindless and still sprawled out on his kitchen floor, "I have one of those stalker exes, I guess."

"Reno's your ex-boyfriend, huh?" Zack sounded amused.

Cloud instantly sobered. "Um," he said awkwardly, "...Yeah." He figured that his ghosts had assumed he and Reno were, since they had seen them kissing and all that, but he hadn't come out and explicitly said it. He hoped they wouldn't have an issue with it...

"Well then," Genesis said, clapping his hands twice. "We'll be on the lookout for him then."

"Thanks," murmured Cloud. "Sorry..."

Zack ruffled his hair, grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, chuckling at Cloud's wide-eyed reaction. "Eh. Don't worry about it. _Turks_."

No one would let him help put the food away. Angeal told him to "go chill." Cloud did just that; he stumbled to the theater, cranked up the air conditioning and collapsed on one of the chairs.

_Oh, Reno._

The jokes in the random movie he watched didn't make him laugh; Cloud was not in the mood. However, he was able to relax and think about things a bit more objectively. Reno thought there was some evil thing in the house with him. Cloud couldn't blame him. The guy had been quite literally thrown from the porch, after all.

Reno really cared about him, still, after all this time and after everything that had happened. It was hard.

"Cloud!"

Said man sprang out of his seat. Someone was yelling for him. He ran out of the theater. "I'm right here!" he called, not knowing where to go.

"There you are," came Zack's voice from very close by. He sounded relieved. "Follow me." The ghost grabbed Cloud's hand, since the blond would have quite a bit of trouble following an invisible man. Zack brought Cloud to the kitchen.

"Got him."

Sephiroth filled him in. "We just heard a loud noise coming from upstairs."

"I'll investigate," Genesis volunteered solemnly.

"Be careful," Cloud warned. He wasn't quite sure how he'd feel, but he'd probably be very sad if one of his ghosts...er, died. Again. If that was possible. Genesis' footsteps quickly faded away.

"It might just be that weird raccoon or the wind knocking something over, but we can't be too careful." Zack guided Cloud to sit at one of the chairs by the table.

The four of them made awkward small talk while waiting for Genesis to return. After a few minutes Zack murmured, "Gen's takin' a while."

"Patience," Angeal answered. "Just a little bit longer."

They waited some more but the sassy ghost didn't return. "You two—watch Cloud," Zack ordered. "I'm going up there."

"I don't need to be watched," Cloud protested, hearing Zack leave the kitchen.

"No," Sephiroth said softly from somewhere to Cloud's left, "You do." One of the kitchen knives slid out of its wooden sheath on the counter. Cloud eyed it and swallowed.

"If it's Reno... please don't hurt him."

"And if it isn't?"

"G-Go for it."

They heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Zack was coughing.

"Guys!" he croaked, wheezing. "Genesis is unconscious! Some kind of—" he gagged and spat onto the floor, "—gas. I couldn't go in. The window in one of the—hah—guest bedrooms is broken. Someone's in here."

Sephiroth's voice was extra deep and sinister; Cloud's eyes went wide and he was very glad he was on their side this time. "Zackary, sit until you can breathe. Angeal, guard Cloud."

"Affirmative. You're coming with me, Strife."

Cloud squawked as he was hoisted onto Angeal's back. He was _floating_! Cloud's arms flailed until they wrapped around the ghost's neck. Angeal carried him from the kitchen, Cloud squirming the entire way.

"Where are we going?" he asked. He closed his eyes and was jarred by how _real_ his ghost felt. There were his shoulders, and his arms and hands holding Cloud's thighs up. His cheek was even pressed into the ghost's hair—he could tell it was longish, probably brushing the tops of his shoulders at its longest point. Like this, it was as if he was clinging to any old person—like Rufus or Cid. Cloud opened his eyes, saw nothing, and was disoriented all over again. It was so fucking strange.

Angeal hustled up the staircase, head turning in every direction. "Your room. There's a lock on the door."

"...There is?"

"...Yeah."

"Oh."

They made it to the room without incident. Angeal stepped inside and turned, about to shut the door.

Cloud's ears started ringing. He blinked but that was all. Angeal, however, staggered and let go of one of Cloud's legs to clutch his head with a groan.

"Angeal?" Cloud asked loudly, gripping on to the ghost. The ringing got worse. To Cloud, it sounded like a dog whistle, or that obnoxious mosquito ringtone—Angeal collapsed with a shout, unintentionally throwing Cloud off to the ground.

"Angeal!" Cloud didn't know what was going on or even where to look. "Are you alright?"

"A-Argh—don't move Cloud," the ghost grunted. Cloud blinked as the man protectively covered Cloud with his body. He was heavy and Cloud could clearly see the ceiling above, but he was totally pinned down. Angeal went still. Cloud, shaking his head to get rid of the ringing, knew that his ghost had just fallen unconscious.

_Shit!_

"Gaia—Cloud!"

"Reno!" Cloud wheezed.

The redhead darted inside and locked the door. "What are you _doing_?" Cloud hissed.

The ringing noise must have been coming from Reno. He set a small device on Cloud's dresser, pressed a button and the ringing stopped. Reno, looking frazzled, reached down so he could help Cloud to his feet. His hand bumped into what could only be Angeal's back, about a foot above Cloud's tummy.

Reno blinked, then pressed both hands flat. It was like Cloud was lying under glass; he saw the underside of his ex-boyfriend's palms turn a few shades lighter when pressure was applied. It was so... bizarre.

"Woah! What are you—"

The Turk brought back his foot and kicked the air directly above Cloud as hard as he could. Angeal was too knocked out to make a sound—Reno kicked again, Cloud heard a _crack_, and Angeal must have been pushed totally to the side because Cloud didn't feel his weight anymore.

"What the hell!"

Reno pulled Cloud to his feet. "Wow, that actually worked," he said in amazement. "Enhanced hearing, huh? The Commander was right!"

Cloud fought to get out of his grip. "Reno," he growled, "Look at me. What. Are. You. DOING?"

"You're in danger," snapped Reno, "I'm getting you out of here after I find something important."

"What?"

"Classified, babe. Turk business."

Cloud tried to clock Reno upside the head, but the man seemed to have been expecting it. He easily caught Cloud's fist and gently pushed him back to the bed, pinning him with his weight much like Angeal had. "Argh—Reno, I can't believe you. They're nice, honestly. You didn't have to hurt him!"

"'Him?'" Reno repeated with a puff of disbelief. "_Nice_? It threw me out, babe—"

"Stop _calling_ me that!"

Reno scowled. "Look Cloud. I love you, but I'm on a mission. You are leaving with me whether you like it or not. I'm bringing you somewhere safe. Are you gonna cooperate?"

"No! Get off me!"

"It's for your own good," Reno sighed. He leaned forward and gave Cloud a kiss. The blond went still, gaze shooting to the corner as he hesitated. He broke away with a gasp and held up his hands, which were now sporting a gleaming pair of handcuffs.

"Sorry," Reno apologized, pressing a few kisses to Cloud's cheek, "I've gotta make sure you're not gonna get yourself hurt."

Cloud planted his foot in Reno's chest and pushed as hard as he could. Reno flew backwards, but only a few feet; Cloud had no hope of ever defeating a trained Turk.

"Stop it!" Cloud barked, lying on his back and watching with wary eyes as Reno approached again. "You don't understand. I don't _need_ to be saved or whatever—why won't you just believe me?"

"The Turks are gonna blow this place to pieces, Cloud, along with whatever the hell's on the floor over there. You're _not safe_ here, don't you-"

Cloud tried to kick Reno again, but the redhead caught his foot, batting away. He tried again but with the same result. Reno sighed, visibly pissed off, and started rooting through Cloud's dresser.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asked, clumsily getting to his feet. Reno pushed him back down on the bed again, and before Cloud could do anything about it Reno bound his ankles together with two of Cloud's belts. One of his wrists was released, he was pushed onto his side, and Reno yanked both of Cloud's arms behind his back, handcuffing him again in this new, painful position.

Struggling at this point was useless and they both knew it. Cloud turned his head as best as he could and stared at Reno, speechless.

"I'm so sorry," Reno muttered, leaning over Cloud and speaking into his neck. He managed to turn Cloud and scoot him up the bed until he was comfortable (or as comfortable as he could be). "I'll come back for you once I find what I'm looking for. I'm sorry—I had to do it."

"Reno-" Cloud began desperately. "They're just ghosts. Honestly, they wouldn't hurt me."

The Turk gave him a flat look and tugged up his pant leg, revealing a long, dripping cut.

"Wouldn't hurt you, huh?" He grabbed that ringing device and set it on the bed. "They won't be able to get close. Stay here."

With that Reno was gone, but not before adjusting his uniform. Cloud got an eyeful of all kinds of things on his belt—a handgun, a few smokebombs, a few dark objects that looked like _real_ bombs—Reno had come prepared. He had planned this.

This was a whole new kind of war. Reno wasn't a marshmallow; he wasn't armed with balloons and toys but _real weapons_. This was totally out of his league, Cloud realized.

Cloud tried to squirm out of the belts holding his legs together, but it was useless. Reno was a Turk, of course it wouldn't work. He was fucked. Sephiroth and Zack probably wouldn't come this way; Angeal was guarding him, after all, and they probably didn't think anything could best the ghost.

That stupid thing was still ringing. Cloud was getting an awful headache, but it was nothing to what Angeal had felt. Enhanced hearing... all SOLDIERs had it, he knew, especially the First Classes. They were like super heroes to him when he was younger. Cloud had shitty hearing anyway (too much loud music) and couldn't totally pick up on the stupid thing's frequency. This was a weapon—a weapon against SOLDIERs. Tseng had told Reno to bring it? Figured. As long as it was on Angeal wouldn't wake up. Rolling around on the bed didn't help anything—he couldn't reach it.

He had faith in Zack and Sephiroth (and Genesis too, if he was awake yet). They would be able to stop Reno... but it would be hard with all the stuff he had. Cloud had the ringing thing, at least.

If Reno destroyed his house, Cloud would kill him himself!

He had just resigned himself to waiting out the whole thing (which Cloud had dubbed 'The Second War of Nibelheim Manor') when something tugged on his shirt. Cloud yelped and flailed, jostling his sore shoulders, and came face to face with a raccoon.

"Bandit," Cloud greeted weakly. "I'd wave, but I can't use my arms. Were you hiding under the bed? It's not safe..."

The raccoon hissed at the small contraption on the bed and crawled over Cloud to pick it up with his paws. He let out that Gaia-awful _scream _and dropped it over the side of the bed. It didn't do anything, but Bandit looked pleased nonetheless.

"Thanks," Cloud said miserably. He could hear shouting from downstairs. He let out a frustrated grunt and kicked a bit.

Bandit's little humanlike paws landed on Cloud's socked feet. Cloud, instinctively jerking them away because he was ticklish, curiously peered down his body.

"Hey," Cloud began when Bandit began tugging at the belts, "That's not going to work..."

Bandit bared his little teeth and began gnawing at one of the belts. Cloud stared, then began laughing hysterically, nearly smothering himself with his pillow.

"Goooooo Bandit!" he cried, feeling Bandit break through a strip of leather. Cloud laid as still as possible and nearly burst into tears when the belts fell away. Bandit, alarmed, crawled up Cloud's body and tried to attack the handcuffs.

"That's _really_ not going to work, buddy," sniffled Cloud.

Bandit abandoned the cuffs after a few minutes and curled up on Cloud's chest, placing a paw on his chin much like he had that morning.

Cloud couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks a million." Bandit nipped his earlobe in response.

"Alright!" Cloud sat up after some maneuvering. Bandit laid down on the bed with his belly up, like he wanted to be petted. "Next time, I promise." Cloud shakily stood and stomped on the tiny black box—the ringing stopped.

"Angeal?" Cloud asked. No response. So, Cloud dropped to his knees and putted around like that until he bumped into what had to be his ghost. "Angeal!" he hissed.

Cloud turned himself around and tried to feel with his hands which were awkwardly jutting out behind his back. He couldn't move his arms much because it hurt and the handcuffs were beginning to dig into his wrists, but he sucked it up.

Angeal was breathing. Everything felt fine... Cloud paused and dabbed a spot with his fingers. Blood!

Cloud twisted around and saw nothing, not even on his hands, even though he could definitely feel a wet, slighly sticky substance. Holy Gaia!

"Bandit," Cloud grunted, getting to his feet. "Guard Angeal. Keep him safe, okay?" He pointed with his foot, and Bandit obediently crawled onto Angeal's stomach. Cloud paused, looking at the hovering animal, then shook his head.

"I'll be back. Thanks!" He somehow managed to open the door, doing an awkward half-dance to do so, then sprinted out into the hallway.

His house was chaos. Smoke covered the entire first floor and was rapidly rising to the second. Parts of the carpet were scorched. Where to go?

_Just after I cleaned the whole place, too..._

Cloud ran to the other side of the house, eyes peeled for Reno or 'floating' objects. Nothing. He heard someone yell something downstairs and began heading that way. He stopped, though, and let out a loud groan.

He ran into one of the guest bedrooms. "Tifa!" he roared. He bit his lip, leaned back and put his foot through the window, inhaling sharply at the rush of stinging pain.

"Tifaaaa!"

Tifa was walking up his driveway, food basket in hand. This was definitely _not_ the time for a picnic. She heard Cloud and stopped, looking around.

"_Tifa_! Up here!"

She spotted him and jogged closer. "Cloud?" she hollered back.

"I'm sorry, but you need to go away!"

"Whaaat?"

"It's not safe!" Cloud desperately cried. "You're in danger!"

An explosion rocked the first floor; the glass windows to the far right of the house exploded and smoke and flames shot out. "_No_," Cloud moaned, "Not the living room! Get _out_ of here Tifa!"

Tifa didn't need to be told twice. She dropped the picnic basket and sprinted away. Cloud exhaled and hopped away from the window on his good foot. It was a good thing he had moved his precious Fen-Fen; that bike would have been toasted by now.

The seige continued.

* * *

...What the hell was going _on_ up there? This was worse than the first time...

* * *

Downstairs, Cloud was limping through the kitchen when he was grabbed. "What are you _doing_?"

"Genesis!" Cloud cried, looking around, forgetting that was useless. "You're alright!"

"Where's Angeal?"

"Reno knocked him out with this sound thing. He's bleeding. I think one of his ribs is broken."

Genesis cursed, then let go of Cloud's shoulders. Cloud tried to twist around but couldn't quite see what Genesis was doing. He gripped Cloud's hands and pulled—and just like that the chain between his wrists broke. Cloud gasped; Genesis had pulled his handcuffs apart with his bare hands!

"Go," Genesis commanded. "Be careful."

Cloud nodded and ran one way, hearing the ghost run the other. He turned into the dining room and immediately slammed onto the floor, falling on his ass. Everything was coated in a thin layer of ice. ...Materia? His beautiful chandelier was in pieces all over the floor.

"Reno, you're fucking _dead_!"

He decided to peek into the basement just in case. The light was off and everything was still. Cloud reached the bottom, scanned the place and almost ran back upstairs but stopped. There was a door down here, one that Cloud had always seen closed. It was open, the keypad to the right in pieces and shooting sparks.

_Gotcha_.

Cloud quietly tiptoed up the stairs, his right foot leaving droplets of blood every time he put it down. He booked it to the foyer and screamed, "He's in the basement!" Then he took off, bounding back to the door and quietly darting down the steps.

He wasn't sure what to expect upon entering the mysterious room, but it wasn't a fucking _laboratory_. That's what this was—there were creepy tanks, tables and cabinets, all stainless steel. All this was underground. Wow. There seemed to be a second upper level, which he supposed cut into his first floor somewhere, but it was much smaller than the sprawling lower one.

"Woah..." He inched inside, avoiding the tanks and suspicious instruments.

Reno wasn't hard to find. He was a good distance in, flipping through a small booklet. Other sheets of paper, manuals and notebooks were scattered all around the counter.

"Reno."

In less than a second Reno drew his gun and cocked it. Cloud flinched, peering at the Turk from under his arm, and Reno lowered the gun.

"What the-!" Reno exclaimed, shoving the booklet into his pocket. "What're you doing, yo?"

"Reno," Cloud said again, dropping his head. "Why did you do this?"

The redhead came to him, gathering Cloud in his arms. Cloud squeezed back, sadly resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

"I was told to come here and get something. It's my mission—I have to, I'm a Turk. You know that." He sighed. "And I can't just leave you here. What kind of—_friend_ would I be?"

Cloud stood on his tiptoes and kissed Reno's cheek. The man seemed sufficiently surprised—so much so he fell like a sack of bricks when Cloud tripped them both.

They wrestled on the ground, Reno trying to pin Cloud down without hurting him, and Cloud trying to stall for time.

"I told you a hundred times," Cloud gasped, managing to roll Reno into a clinical refrigerator probably full of bloody body parts, "I'm _fine_! My ghosts wouldn't hurt me!"

Reno seemed to have had enough. He flipped Cloud over, pressed his head into the chilly concrete floor and bent his arm behind his back. "Listen to yourself, yo! Ghosts? Yeah right. These are monst—"

The Turk flew off him. The ghosts descended in milliseconds, immobilizing him and grabbing his hands. Cloud squinted, rubbing his arm—by his feet was whatever Reno had been trying to take, crumpled in a ball. The blond stuffed it into his pocket.

"You alright Cloudy?" Zack sounded like he was having the time of his life. "Great job!"

"Peachy."

Someone knocked Reno out—the redhead's eyes rolled and he went slack. Cloud crawled closer.

They took a minute to breathe, flopping onto the floor. Sudden beeping shattered the silence, jarring everyone. It was Reno's phone.

Someone got the phone from his pocket. Cloud watched it float upwards.

"Were you successful?" The voice was quiet, but even through the speaker Cloud could tell it was Tseng.

Sephiroth answered. "Tseng," he greeted, voice dripping with hate, "This is Sephiroth. We've detained Reno."

The sound of the dial tone was the only response. Zack cackled. "Tseng is probably shitting his pants right now."

"You guys didn't hurt Reno too much, did you?"

"He's fine. We should heal him though, to be safe. There's a Cure materia in the first-aid kit in the bathroom by the nursery."

"I'll get it," Cloud volunteered.

"Are you sure? Is your foot alright?" Cloud's foot was lifted, and Cloud pictured Genesis peering at the bottom, where his blood had soaked completely through the soft cotton. He was leaving bloody footprints all over the place.

"I'm fine. I'll be right back."

Cloud took off, unfolding the paper as he did so. He ascended the steps to the second floor, sidestepping patches of ice. His house was _so_ destroyed. He reached the right bathroom and rooted around for the materia. It was a green orb about the size of his fist. He had never held one before; Cloud spent a moment admiring the colors.

He sat on the lip of the tub, peering at the top of the first page. He frowned.

_Experimental Log_

_Pain Tolerance Experiment B Section 6.5.3f_

_Experimentors: _Hojo, Barnaby; Tseng

Was this...? It was. Cloud flattened it out over his thigh and started skimming.

"_Objective:_ Build tolerance for pain and blood loss.

_Methodology:_

Tolerance to pain can and will be built. The four specimens used in this project, hereafter referred to as A, G, S, and Z, are high quality _Homo sapiens_ trained as SOLDIER. As such each specimen is more tolerant of extreme conditions than other creatures of the same species.

The specimen will be stored in a three meter by three meter electrically charged iron environment. Attempts to escape will result in the electric alarm delivering a shock large enough to bring the specimen to unconsciousness.

Misbehavior will not be tolerated. Each specimen has shown a great concern for the others. Punishment for misbehavior will include bodily harm to others as well as bodily harm to the specimen itself. If this proves to be ineffective, physical restraints and chemical tranquilizers will be required.

The process will begin with nerve conductors. Settings will begin with a minimal setting of 100millivolts and will be steadily increase to 1000millivolts. Indications of pain and tolerance will be recorded."

Cloud felt fucking sick. He shakily swallowed, flipping forward to the back few pages. He was no idiot; he recognized those letters.

"Specimens are now tolerant of 675mV of nerve conduction.

Specimen A is unresponsive to bodily harm. It often becomes violent in its attempts to protect the other specimens. In order to maintain control of its behavior, it is often forced to watch the other specimens' experimentation and punishment.

Specimen G is particularly rebellious. However, it quickly becomes docile when Specimen Z is threatened. Specimen G refuses to cry out toward any physical harm. Pain tolerance becomes difficult to measure; therefore, muscle tenseness is recorded for further indication.

Specimen S is particularly adaptive and successful. This is unsurprising. It is at 800mV and may even surpass the parameters set for this experiment. Specimen S's tolerance will be brought to 1500mV. It has been noted that specimen S is most promising among the test subjects. In order to keep its authority in check, measures similar to those of Specimen A have been taken. Furthermore, Specimen S is intelligent. Its thought process needs control. Flunitrazepam is constantly administered to keep its judgment impaired.

Specimen Z is quick to adapt. However, further, more intense, sessions will be required in order to bring it to the same level as the other specimens. Specimen Z is mentally confident and this may be what has allowed it to survive beyond expectations. Of the four specimen, Specimen Z has the highest heart rate at 48 bpm. It is doubtful whether or not specimen Z will be useful for the ultimate Mako enhancement. This subject will be useful in the upcoming Mako tests. It is imperative that its pain tolerance be brought up."

_Holy._

Cloud thought about _Mako_, which was currently underneath his bed.

This... proved it, didn't it? He was right?

Cloud shook himself, gripping the materia and running out of the bathroom. He would ponder it later—there were more important things to worry about, like Angeal's injury, his foot, and Reno. Solving his mystery could wait.


End file.
